


Finding Kara Danvers (or How Supergirl Came Back to Life)

by Roadside_Wildflower



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Angst, Character Study, Depression, Developing Relationship, Drug Abuse, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kara Danvers Needs a Hug, POV First Person, SuperCorp, deconstruction of the superhero archetype, picking yourself back up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2020-02-10 09:24:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18657589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roadside_Wildflower/pseuds/Roadside_Wildflower
Summary: As far as the rest of the world knows, Kara Danvers has been missing for the last two years, and Supergirl is dead.Kara is still alive though, clinging to life in a halfway house, working part-time at a coffee shop. When she makes friends with a charming stranger who begins coming to her coffee shop late at night, she starts to wonder if maybe she deserves more than what she has resigned herself to. As it happens though, Kara still has a lot of growing and soul-searching left to do before she can truly move on.





	1. Prologue

They found Supergirl's body wedged between dumpsters behind a Chinese buffet in Southside. Her suit was stuck to her skin, mottled purple radiating out from two bullet wounds to the back, red blood bleeding into the once proud blue fibers. Were they kryptonite bullets, or had she lost her powers, no longer the girl of steel?

It didn't matter, none of it did. All that mattered was the picture, snapped up and put on Twitter by some passerby who didn't bother to call for an ambulance, or the police, because in Southside, seeing a body wasn't something to call home about. The only reason it was worth taking a picture of was because even the coarsest person could see the poetic beauty in National City's hero, angel, popped just like one of the rest of them.

It turns out that flight doesn't make you an angel, it doesn't make you anything at all. Just another statistic, at the end of the day.

By the time the photo went viral, by the time someone went out to check and see where the body was, it was gone. Nothing but a pool of blood remaining, and Supergirl was never seen again.

Some people theorized that she had been rescued, and just needed time to heal. News articles were written, conspiracy videos made, rumors whispered. But that all stopped after two years of silence. Now, they didn't say anything at all. Supergirl was gone, and their life was no different because of it. No better, no worse.

Supergirl came into this city quietly, unwillingly, and she had left the same way.

Kara Zor-El, last lady of Krypton, who had the burden of a dead world on her shoulders, was dead. Supergirl, angel of National City, who had the burden of a dying world on her shoulders, was dead. Kara Danvers, who had the burden of family, friends, rent, utility bills, groceries, and work, was dead.

But plain old me, who was never of any world, who was never strong enough to shoulder those burdens, was still here.

I'm still here, barely. Somehow. Powerless. Crippled.

Clinging to life in a halfway house, working part-time at a coffee shop, the kind owned by an old Cuban man on the outskirts of Southside that doesn't mind if you never tell him your real name because he doesn't want to know it, and because he never had any intention on paying you over the table anyways.

I wish I could die, like Supergirl. But I can't. Won't. For some reason, or another, I keep dragging on life. I don't know why, but maybe some day I'll find out. But for now, I go on, each day more banal that the next. Dwindling me down, like a whittled twig. Smoothing away all my rough edges, the chips on my shoulder and all down my body, until there's nothing left of me.

Please, let there be nothing left of me.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a short prologue before the story starts! The prologue itself was inspired in part by the song "No Capes" by Guante


	2. False Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, in terms of timeline and canon, this fic exists in an imaginary time span between season one and two (that's where the canon divergence tag comes in). So, for the purposes of this fic, just imagine that after the whole Astra/Fort Rozz storyline, Kara was just doing generic Supergirl things for like a year before she fell off the scene, and that Lena didn't move to national city until just before the start of this fic.

I want to spit in her coffee.

As much as she's trying to blend in, she's not one of us (though who  _us_  is, I don't really know, and I don't really want to unpack). She's more Cat Grant than Maria next door, and clearly not from this part of town. She's too polished, despite her best efforts to act casually, and her clothes are too neat, too crisp, too new, though even I had to admit that they look good. Dark jeans, thin black blouse, and green eyes that can see right through you.

She is gorgeous, and I hate it.

What I hate more though is the way she speaks to me. As if she sees  _me_  as an equal, and not the scrawny, frizzy-haired mess of a person I am, wearing a frayed t-shirt that is far too big for my frail frame. Not the part-time, less-than-minimum-wage worker I am.

I pour steamed milk into her coffee and hand it to her.

"Thanks," she says, giving me a small smile. "I don't think I caught your name, earlier. I'm Lee," she tells me, face expectant.

"El," I reply. "Thanks for coming."

She frowns at the dryness of my voice, but just offers me another smile before walking away, sitting down at the cozy little table in the corner by the window. It's my favorite table, and part of me hates that she too feels the draw and the appeal of it on a rainy night like this, where rain runs in rivulets down it and refracts a rainbow of neon lights from storefronts outside.

She opens her laptop and begins typing away at it, as if she has some important work to do. Which is odd, because we don't have wi-fi here, not even for employees, so we don't get many people here to do work, except for the occasional hipster with a notebook who wants to feel cool and real for coming to the rough part of town (even though this isn't the "rough" part of town, it's just slightly sketchy and on the edge of where well-off folk are willing to venture).

But she works on her laptop, steadily and without breaks, and I only have two other customers to attend to for the next two hours, and they both leave as soon as they get their coffee. Like normal people.

I don't know why Marco keeps the store open into the late night, considering that almost no one comes in, especially on Tuesday nights like this. But then again, I don't ask Marco anything about how and why he runs the store the way he does, and I don't want to know. Some things are better left unknown.

So I stand and watch as the woman works. What is it that she's doing, and why is she here? Her laptop is facing the back wall, and I can't see a thing on it. So instead I focus on her, tracing the smooth lines of her face, her lips. Why is she here? She's too clean, too polished to be some adventurous hipster, and she doesn't have the same wide eyes as the poverty or misery tourist we'll get on rare occasion. Instead, she has sharp, piercing eyes, and her brow wrinkles in the most adorable way as she concentrates on her work, but she doesn't seem comfortable here, she rests gingerly on her seat, as if she she wants to be able to leave on a moment's notice, and--

"You alright?" the woman asks me, noticing my long stare.

"Yeah, sorry," I stammer, hating the red flush of embarrassment that is spreading across my face.

She's silent for a short moment, before speaking again. "I'm working on a computer program, if you were wondering."

"I'm not. I wasn't," I say, too hastily, and I can tell by the woman's half-hidden smirk that she sees right through me.

"It's fine either way," she says easily, as if she's done this thousands of times before. "Is it usually this quiet here at night?"

"Yeah."

"Makes for an easy job, I guess."

" _You_  would guess that," I snort, grabbing a cloth to wipe the counters down with. And I know she didn't mean it in a cruel way, but her words press all the right buttons to resurrect old insecurities, and I can feel my words begin to tinge with tartness.

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"You don't strike me as the kind of person who's ever worked a job like this."

"Yeah? And why do you think that?"

"You're too polished, you look like you just walked off a movie set," I say, regretting the words the instant they leave my mouth. Movie set, really? Not the smoothest line in the world.

"Glad you like the outfit," she says, an insufferable smirk on her face. "You don't look too bad yourself, you're totally rocking the whole 'wild and I don't care' look," she says, eyes trailing deliberately down my body from across the room.

I try not to blush as I fumble my way through a response. "Less 'wild and free' and more poor and unkempt. My poverty isn't a fashion statement, not all of us have trustfunds"

"Maybe not, but the look works on you." She shrugs and offers me a small smile. "And, well, I won't lie and say that I didn't grow up in a wealthy household, but it certainly hasn't been ideal, especially recently," she says, a slight grimace on her face.

"Whatever," I mumble, turning back around to clean the coffee press.

"You know, I've done all the work I needed to do tonight, if you want to talk for a little while, or something?" she calls out from behind me.

With the lingering eyes and comments about my appearance and now this, was she... hitting on me? And I should feel flattered that this gorgeous woman might be interested in me, but for some reason, I hate it. I hate that someone thinks that I might still be worth something, I hate that I feel drawn to her, that I want to connect and spend time with someone. I'm fine, the way I am. I don't want or need anyone else.

"That's pretty presumptuous of you, don't you think?" I snap at her. I turn back around to glare at her, make it known that this intrusion into me isn't welcome.

"Oh, sorry," she says, and I can tell there's hurt in her eyes.

The last two years might've turned me into a bit of a bitch, but still, the last thing I wanted to do was hurt some pretty stranger for no good reason.  "Sorry, I just-- today's not a good day," I mumble, avoiding her gaze.

"Maybe some other time, then," she says kindly. "I... I like it here, so I think I might start coming back," she says, flashing me a shy smile. "If that's alright with you."

I grunt, and shrug. "You can do whatever you want, just don't expect anything from me."

And there it is. Me being a colossal bitch again. Her smile shrinks a little and her eyes grow a bit sad, as if I had just told her some depressing bit of news. It's dangerously close to pity, and it makes me hate the woman even more in this moment.

"It's just about closing time," I sigh, eyes flicking to the clock on the wall. "You should get going."

"Okay," she says simply, her expression undecipherable. She closes and stows away her laptop, movements deliberate and careful. She stands and walks over to the door, but turns to face me before she pushes it open. "Bye, El. Some other time, maybe," she says, sheepish smile on her face.

"Sorry, I don't remember your name," I mumble, trying my best to look disinterested and disaffected.

"Oh, yes you do," she says, eyes sparkling. And then she's gone, out the door, leaving nothing in her wake but the faint tinkling of a bell and an unpleasant feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Because she's right. I do remember. Her name is Lee, and she is gorgeous, and right now there wasn't a person I resented more in the world.

Next time, I am totally spitting in her coffee.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me longer than I expected to post this up. I was rereading over my first draft, and I realized that I had made Kara a bit too bitter and rude lol, so I tried to tone it down a little bit and inject a just a little bit of her adorkableness back into it. So if the dialog seems a little clunky, it's probably from excessive tinkering


	3. Linger

Lee doesn't come back the next day. Or the next. Or the next.

It's been a week, and I hate myself for it. For the anticipation that jolts my body and mind awake, when the bell on the door tinkles. For the inevitable disappointment it brings, when she isn't the one to walk through. It's silly, because I didn't even like her. I was an absolute bitch to her the other day, in fact. But somehow, my interaction with her had felt more real, more natural, then anything around anyone else had since, well, I had left my old life behind. And, she was also the most gorgeous person I had ever seen, so there was that as well. And the fact that she kept intruding on my own private thoughts. It was probably just because I've been alone and without intimacy for so long, right? Nothing else.

The door jingles open, an hour away from closing, and I shouldn't be surprised when the person who walks in isn't the enigmatic girl from before, but I am. I can feel my face fall, a little bit, and the man notices.

"Ouch, sorry if you were expecting someone else."

"I wasn't," I say simply. "What can I get you?"

"Just a cafe cubano. To go, please."

I nod and get to work making his coffee. I've almost finished when the door jingles open again, and I have to stop myself from spinning around to see who it is. Instead, I finish making the coffee, and turn around to give it to the man.

But the man isn't standing right there by the counter anymore. It's her.

I can feel my face flush with heat, which is silly, because she hasn't even said anything yet, and neither have I. She grins at me, for a long moment, while I stare at her like a deer in headlights.

"Hey," she says easily.

"Hi," I say in response. Or, rather, I meekly stutter, but she has enough grace to not tease me for it. The man, however, who is now standing a few feet away, does not.

"Oh, so this is who you were hoping to see, when I came in," he teases, lifting the coffee cup out of my trembling hand. "Can't blame you, she's a stunner," he says, winking at Lee. She ignores him and instead keeps her gaze focused on me. "Here's your money," he continues, unfazed, as he slaps a bill down on the table. "Keep the change, and use it treat your girlfriend to something nice," he finishes with another wink, before hurrying out the door.

I gingerly pocket the twenty he threw down, and let my eyes flick back up to Lee's.

"So, what can I get you?"

"Same as before."

"Sorry, I don't recall."

"Yes you do," she says sweetly, before abruptly walking away to the same table as before.

"I can't make your coffee if you don't tell me what kind you want!" I call after her. She ignores me, and pulls out her laptop.

Sighing, I begin making her mocha (which yes, I did remember that she ordered before). Despite Marco's initial insistence on only serving authentic Cuban coffee, our mocha was the best thing on the menu, thanks to my insistence on serving it (which was mostly driven by my own desire to drink it while on the job). I may not be the girl of steel anymore, but when it came to food, I still had an iron will, something that my bank account (read: cash under my mattress) was much worse off for.

Once the coffee is finished, I grab it and walk over to her table.

"Your coffee," I say bluntly, letting it thud down onto her table. I try not to wince as the light brown liquid almost sloshes over and onto the woman's laptop. It doesn't though, thankfully.

"Mm, smells wonderful. Thank you," she says, contentment flickering across her face as she breathes in the coffee's aroma. I start to walk away, but she reaches out for my arm before I do. "Do you want to talk a little bit, since your shift is almost over?"

I open my mouth to sharply turn her down, but something stops me, and instead, I end up just standing there, open-mouthed.

"El, you alright there?" she asks, her eyes lighting up when she notices the resulting blush on my face after she says my name. "It's okay, either way. Though, I will say, I'm not sure what to make of all the mixed signals you're giving me."

"Mixed signals?" I stutter.

"Well, I know we don't really know each other, but half the time around me, you're an adorable blushing mess, but the other half, you look like you want to bite my head off."

"Fair enough."

"So which is it?

"…both?"

Lee throws back her head and laughs. It's a really charming sound, one that I suspect not many people get to hear. "That's understandable, I guess. To be honest," she says, her tone suddenly shy, "I've never actually done this thing before. The whole flirting with the cute barista thing. Or really anyone, actually," she says, her face a rapidly ripening red. "So sorry if I'm messing it up."

"No, no," I choke out, my own face flushed again now. "I, ah, it's been a while for me too. Since anyone's even tried really talking to me," I say, sitting down in the chair opposite to her.

"I find that hard to believe," she says, genuine surprise on her face.

"I mean, you remember how I was last time you were here," I say wrinkling my nose. "Sorry about that, by the way. I haven't been the most pleasant person to be around lately, not for a long while really."

"That's alright," she says lightly, "we all have bad days. But even if you're a bit of a grouch, that doesn't change the fact that, you know," she says, biting her lip slightly, "you're kinda stunning."

"Me? Stunning?"

"Yeah?" she says, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear.

" _You_  are calling  _me_  stunning?"

"Is it really that hard to believe? I thought I told you as much last time I was here." She takes a sip of her coffee, and watches me carefully.

"Kinda, I guess. It's just crazy to hear it from you, because, well, you're gorgeous," I stammer. "You could have like, anyone you wanted, seriously. I honestly don't know what you're doing looking my way, let alone in this shop, really."

Lee just offers me a mysterious smile. "Thanks," she says sheepishly. "I could say the same for you though."

"What do you mean?" I ask, trying to keep my face a mask of banality. She can't know who I used to be, can she?

"I'm not sure, there's just something about you. I spend lots of time around people, some who try to seem smarter than they are, and others who try to seem dumber. I've gotten good at understanding people, and there's something about you that seems to say that being a simple barista is far beneath your abilities."

"Oh. I guess you're right," I say hesitantly.

"I know I am. So what did you do before this, El? There's no way you have been working here for too long," she says, taking another long sip of her coffee.

"I-- I don't really want to talk about it," I say softly, avoiding her gaze. "It's kinda a difficult story to tell."

"I get that," she says with a wry smile. "It's not easy for me to talk about a lot of things either, so we can save the talking for some other time, then."

I shift uncomfortably in my seat and we both look at each other for an awkwardly long moment, neither knowing which words to say next. She takes another sip of her coffee and I watch silently, still at a loss at what to say or do. She glances at her laptop, and reads aloud the time. "It's getting late, and I don't think I'm in quite the right headspace to do any more work, so I should probably be heading back. Unless..." she says, giving me a leading look.

"Unless?"

"You want to, you know," she says weakly.

"I want to…"

"You know, because I think you're stunning, and you think I'm stunning..." she says, trailing off.

I blush, but shake my head. "I don't follow."

"Damn it El, seriously? You're not going to make me say it out loud, are you?"

"Sorry, but it's not like I'm a mind reader or--" I start, before the realization crashes down on me and leaves me red faced. "Oh." I was  _not_  in the right state for that. My legs haven't been shaved in a week and honestly, all of me probably needs a good scrub before I let  _her_  anywhere near me.

"Um, yeah," Lee replies, her face even redder than my own now. It was sort of comforting to know that even someone as polished as her was a clutz when it came to this."Sorry. I think I'll just go now," she stutters, swiftly putting her laptop away. She scrambles up and is almost out the door before I can find my voice again.

"Wait!" I call out.

"Yeah?"

"Will you-- will you be back tomorrow?" I ask, my voice catching slightly.

"Maybe," she says, sparkle back in her eye. "Should I come back tomorrow?"

"If you'd like," I say, in an attempt to not seem too desperate. But the other woman sees right through me, and offers me a coy smile.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," she says, giving me one last smile before slipping out into the night, leaving behind her half-finished coffee.

What was that? And what was wrong with me? Had I really just turned down a casual hookup with a woman who looked like she had waltzed right out of a movie?

More importantly though, when was it that I even cared? I had thought I was done, with that sort of thing. I had accepted, even embraced my life as a misanthropic loner with no responsibilities and no emotional attachments. Reveled, even, in the blight that infected myself and my surroundings.

So what was I doing, getting swept up in some woman who was leagues above me now, and maybe even leagues above old Kara?

She and her damnably pretty green eyes had the potential to disrupt everything I had built for myself over the last two years (or, rather, everything I had tore down). I was playing with fire, by inviting her to potentially get close.

But for all the lies I tell myself, let echo on repeat in my skull, I did miss connecting emotionally with other people. I miss Alex, and even Winn and James and all the others.

I push those thoughts from my mind though and take my time cleaning up the shop for the night, content to block it all out with the image of her blushing face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a jump! I like Lena as a cool and collected woman who pursues what she wants, but still gets clumsy and flustered when dealing with people when it comes to anything personal.
> 
> Also, you cannot convince me otherwise that in the show, her allowing Kara access to her office at anytime after barely knowing her isn't flirting, or the office full of flowers or pot stickers at the gala. Fight me. Regardless though, she pushes pretty awkwardly fast and hard in the show for them to be friends, so I wanted to try to do the same here. And of course, just bc Kara is an angsty gal in this fic doesn't mean she isn't still her adorably awkward and oblivious self :)
> 
> Also, this is literally the first thing I've ever written in present tense, so if the tense ever feels awkward, it's because I'm still figuring out what thoughts and stuff should be referred to in past vs present. It's a big pet peeve of mine when people confuse their tenses in a story though, so let me know if I'm doing it!


	4. Late Night Visit

I hadn't dressed up nice for her, I swear. I had just felt like looking good today. It was a pretty day, and I was a pretty(ish) woman, so I deserved to look good. It was natural for me to look good.

My legs, carefully shaven for the first time in Rao knows how long, also had nothing to do with her. I was just catching up on regular upkeep, and all.

So I'm not disappointed, not at all, when the day goes by and it's thirty minutes from closing time and Lee is nowhere to be found.

I sigh and silently chastise myself for getting my hopes up.  I'm almost done closing up the shop for the night when the door tinkles open, and I'm met with her green eyes on mine.

"Hey," she says softly, slightly out of breath. "Sorry it took me so long to get here." I try to ignore the fluttering that rises up through my stomach. "Work was hellish, I had to practically run over here."

"You work this late?"

"Sometimes," she shrugs. "I've got a demanding job."

"Computer programming, right?"

"Sort of," she says evasively. "It involves a lot of stuff."

"Okay," I nod slowly. "So, still want a mocha?"

"Definitely," she says, a grateful smile lighting up her face. She steps towards the counter and reaches into her purse, but I wave her off before she can grab her wallet.

"This one's on me, Lee." I flash her a smile, and something warm rises in my chest at the smile she gives me in response.

"Sure? It's no trouble for me to pay."

"My treat," I say, as I begin to prepare the coffee grounds.

"Thanks then. You know though," she begins, tone playful, "this is a big step up from the service last week."

"Mm, well believe it or not, I used to be a super cheerful person. 'Sunny Danvers,' they called me."

"Not sure if I believe that," Lee teases, leaning on the counter. "And Danvers, huh?"

I blush, kicking myself for making a slip like that. "Yep. Though no one has called me by that name in a long time."

"Understandable, I don't much like to be called by my last name either."

"Trouble with family?" I ask, as the coffee press comes to life with a loud mechanical hum.

"Oh yeah, it's a bit of a sore point for me. "So," she begins, clearing her throat, "what happened to make 'Sunny Danvers' lose her sunny disposition?"

I shrug, and try to keep my tone bland."Everyone has their breaking point."

"Sounds rough."

"Yeah. I, ah," I say, wincing as I consider what to tell her next, "I just bit off more than I could chew. I thought I wanted it, at first. I thought I was wasting my potential. But the burdens I took on, the things that I tried to live up to, it was too much."

"Happens to the best of us."

"Can't see it happening to you," I say, finishing up her coffee. I slide it over to her, and she accepts it with grateful smile.

"Oh, but it has. Maybe not in the same way that it happened to you, but when I first came to National City and starting working at my new position, I had a lot of expectations for myself, and I was terrified of not living up to them. I put too much pressure on myself, and eventually, I realized that I had to step back a little bit. I needed to focus on what I was best at, what inspired me, what kept me going. And so I did."

"And what is it that inspires you?" I ask, leaning over the counter.

"Creating technology that helps people," she says, genuine smile lighting up her face.

"Like, software stuff?"

"Among other things, yes," she says, blushing slightly. "I may have mislead you, before, by implying I was a programmer. The truth is a bit more complicated than that. I'm in a sort of management role right now, out of necessity, but I still feel that need and drive to create. So I do."

"That's great, I'm glad you're still doing that then."

"Thank you. And how about yourself?"

"Sorry?"

"What inspires you, El, the mysterious barista extraordinaire?"

"Not much of anything, these days," I say blankly.

"Oh?" she asks, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Yep. I haven't exactly had an inspiration lately. I've been in a bit of a rut for a while," I joke, knowing that she couldn't really quite understand the depths of what that 'rut' really was.

"Was there anything that inspired you before then, maybe?"

"Truth, and justice, and helping people. But I lost faith in all of that," I say softly, meeting her eyes carefully.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. It turned out that most people didn't want to hear the truth I had to say."

"Ah, you worked as a journalist then, I presume?"

"For a time. I did a few other things as well. No matter what I did though," I say, voice still and quiet, "I could never find the truth and justice that were supposed to be the beating heart of the American way. Justice is flimsy, and often little more than cruelty handed down from authority. Rarely does it lift people up, and truth seems to be the same way."

"Well, I've never much been one for platitudes like those anyways. I do think there is an importance to sharing truth though, and for implementing justice."

"Maybe," I say shrugging my shoulders. We're both silent for a long moment, and an odd tension fills the air between us.

"So," Lee begins, drumming her fingers on the countertops, "I'll admit, I've always been a little curious. What does it look like, behind the counter of a coffee shop?"

"Well, here it's a little bare, because we only really serve different kinds of black coffees, so we don't have many syrups and stuff," I explain, "but I used to work at this really nice cafe downtown several years ago, and there, it was really cool because--" I cut myself, noticing a bemused look on the other woman's face. "Oh. You didn't really want to hear that, did you?"

"Well," she begins, her eyes gleaming with something between humor and attraction, "I was thinking maybe you could show me. Let me come in on the other side, and all, and you can show me yourself," she says.

"Oh you want to-- oh," I say, blushing at the implication of her request. "Um, yeah, I think I can show you, that, and, uh, other things," I stammer.

"Other things? So forward, El," she says, the words dripping from her tongue like honey. "But I can't say I wouldn't be opposed."

"Um, yeah. So, come around this way, and you can enter just here-- yeah, you got it," I mumble, as she makes her way around the bar. A moment later, she is standing beside me. Close to me. And I can smell her perfume, sweet but not floral, and I can feel the erratic tick of her heart. For all her cool seduction, her heart was racing just as much as mine.

"I don't think I read this wrong," she says softly, lifting a hand up to carefully cup my face, "but I just want to be sure, before I do anything, that this is what you want."

I slip an arm around her waist and step forward a little bit, close enough to feel her breath fall lightly against my skin. "I want this," I whisper, letting my other hand rise to caress her cheek.

And then her head tilts forward to mine, and I brush my lips against hers.

It doesn't set my heart alight with butterflies, or fireworks, or anything else like that. But it makes me feel  _warm_ , in a way that only the sun ever has before, and her lips are  _soft,_ but in a way that nothing else compares to, and it makes me feel safe. She makes me feel safe, for some reason I can't quite understand, but that doesn't matter. It's been a long time since I've felt safe, and I want nothing more than to just drown in this feeling right now with her.

She kisses me back, pulls me in, and I allow myself to be lost into her, lost into the pull of her lips against mine, the gentle flick of her tongue, the slightest graze of her teeth. After a long moment, I pull back, breathless, and she does the same.

"Wow," I say softly.

"Yeah," she laughs a little. "On second thought, maybe I shouldn't have worn lipstick today," she says, tracing the outline of my lips with her fingers, wiping away the traces of her she left behind.

"Nah, I like it on you. It makes you hot. Movie star hot."

"You've said that before."

"Well it's true," I say giving her a hungry smile. Lee moves to lean in to kiss me again, but I place my hand against her collarbone to hold her back. "Sorry, I've got to do something real quick," I say, eyeing the faint streetlight outside the shop windows.

I extract myself from her and hurry over to the front door. I flip the 'open' sign around and turn off the main lights. "Now," I say, my voice low and needy, "we can continue."

Lee gives me a devilish grin and I rush back to her, pressing my body against hers, and she wraps her arms around me.

Her lips are on mine, and then my neck, and then my lips are on her skin, and--

And the next half hour is pure adrenaline and lust and bliss wrapped into one.

Eventually, though, like all good things, it comes to an end.

"So, as nice as this is," Lee pants, breaking way from me slightly, "I'm exhausted, and a little sore from working out this morning, so I'd rather finish this somewhere with a bed, maybe."

"Are you asking me to come back to your place?"

"Maybe," she says, a sheepish grin on her face, "but not exactly. My place… isn't an option right now."

"Oh," I say, trying to ignore how my heart dropped at her words. "Well, um, my place maybe isn't the best bet either," I say, stepping back a little bit.

"Roommates?" she asks, her nose wrinkling adorably.

"Sort of. It's… it's kind of embarrassing," I say, the heat starting to leave my body a little bit.

"It's alright if you don't want to tell me," she frown, "you don't have to say anything."

"No, it's fine,"I say, and I can feel my heart throbbing in my chest even louder now, for a different reason altogether. "If this continues at all, youd've figured it out before too long anyways. I, um, live in a halfway house."

"Okay," she says, her face gentle.

"It's, um, not like a traditional one," I explain, blushing. "I don't have a criminal record, or anything like that. It's for… something else."

"Something else," Lee repeats, her brow creased.

"It's run by a charity. It's for, um, drug abuse. A certain kind," I say, trying to stay as vague as I can. There aren't a lot of halfway houses run by charities, and I certainly didn't want her knowing that the one I live in is specifically designated for aliens. "I was kinda fucked up when they found me. I'm not like an addict, or anything," I say, holding out my hands. "But it was probably for the best. Typically, it's only a short term deal there, but I had done a favor for the person who runs it, before, so they're letting me stay there long-term."

"I see," she says, nodding slowly. "That's alright. Well, we'll figure it out next time."

"Next time?" I repeat, more a hopeful question than an affirmation.

"Next time," she says, a smile lighting up her face. "It's a little embarrassing, but this is the best thing to grace my sex life in quite a long time." She laughs a little, trying unsuccessfully to tidy up her messy hair.

"Me too," I reply hastily, biting my lower lip as I find myself lost in the contentedness resting on her face. "Sorry for killing the mood."

"No, no worries at all. Um, actually," she begins, her tone more nervous than I had ever heard before, "it's fine, because I was kind of thinking… maybe we could go on a date? If you're interested in having this be more than physical, I mean, because I know you may not, and that's fine with me too, but--"

"Lee," I interrupt cheekily, grinning up at her.

"Yes?"

"I would love to go on a date with you."

After a few more minutes of shared whispers and giggles, we tidy ourselves and our clothes up a little and exchange phone numbers in order to coordinate our date. Eventually though, I lead her out of the cafe, giving her a parting kiss outside the door. She calls an Uber (one of the expensive ones, by the look of it), which is likely a smart move, considering the hour and part of town we are in, and a few minutes later she is whisked away for the night.

It had been a good night, a great night even, and even though our relationship would likely never evolve into anything more than a casual fling, it all still feels good and shiny in its newness.

But that isn't enough to magically turn everything around, to make me feel better about my own failures, about my own situation. Especially when I couldn't even take her back to my place, not just because of the halfway house part, but because I live in the part of town that someone like her wouldn't even dream of stepping into.

I shrug on my ratty old hoodie and plod home, in the complete opposite direction she left in, with the occasional flickering streetlight illuminating the way.

While there had been some level of inequality and corruption in Kyrpton, there had been no true poverty there, and it had taken some time for me to become accustomed to the idea that perfectly rational and kind humans are okay with the reality that the less privileged of their kind face. Over the last few years, I have also learned that poverty and blight on Earth look different depending on the city, the region, and the culture. I have always found Southside to look particularly miserable though.

Southside has none of the crumbling old rowhomes of brick like in Baltimore that are symbols of a lost prosperity, nor does it have grimy alleyways or large block apartments that hug either side of the street like in Metropolis. Instead, being a younger, less dense city, here there are small, dilapidated homes separated by wide eroded roads sitting on tiny lots littered with trash and patches of weeds. Apartment complexes that look more like motels with peeling paint and missing siding rest interspersed between the homes, and it feels more like mid-century suburbia gone deathly wrong than it does troubled city.

I pass by a few people, some walking with their heads down, others lingering alone, and even one group of loud teenage and pre-teen boys who I've seen wandering the streets countless times before (they're boys who have no home, no  _real_  home that is safe, that makes them feel loved, and part of me wonders if Kal-El, or even I, would've found ourselves among their midst if we hadn't had the help of the Danvers or of other kind, financially secure humans). And there are also the homeless, scattered on the occasional bench or street corner like forgotten coins dropped and lost in the grout of streets and manhole covers. They are people left behind, people that Supergirl had never truly helped. All of them, are people that Supergirl, the DEO, and others had never really helped.

I wonder if I would walk these streets so casually, if I wasn't a Kryptonian, practically a goddess among men (even if I couldn't consciously reach my powers anymore). Eliza, for all her love and compassion, taught us to avoid places like this. Taught me and Alex that these were parts of town you just didn't go to, they weren't for people like  _us_.

Eventually, I reach my street, de Vargas way, or "Space Way" as it's frequently called by locals. It's an area known for it's sizable alien population, but not the kind that frequent the occasional alien-friendly establishments in the rest of the city. It's not the kind of place that the DEO ever really interacts with either, except when in pursuit of the occasional alien criminal that they deem dangerous to humans. Space Way is a smaller street, one that doesn't connect directly to any street that leaves Southside, and off of it are a handful of insular neighborhoods. Years ago, before the influx of alien immigration, the area had been known as "Gate City," because it is largely cut off from even from the rest of Southside, and had been home to several of the roughest projects in the city. A decade ago though, National City had closed down and abandoned the projects, and aliens had moved in. Now, Space Way, or Gate City, or whatever the fuck you wanted to call it is home to a mix of alien refugees, junkies, and petty criminals avoiding intergalactic arrest warrants. The aliens here are often ones who can't blend into human society well, and since it's rare to see humans here (city services and cops don't even touch the place), even human-passing aliens like me are uncommon and subject to scrutiny.

My halfway house, an old Super 8 that had been long abandoned before it found new purpose as lodging for wayward aliens trying to get clean, is perched just a short way down Space Way, just inside the boundary between greater Southside and the alien community. And it is a good thing that I am never going to bring Lee or any human woman or man here, because even they aren't aware that only aliens live in this part of town, I wouldn't want them to know that this is where I live.

I walk to my door, which still has its 108 plastic number plate tacked on the wall beside it, unlock it, and step inside onto the crusty, retro 80's rug that covered the floor. Not bothering to change, I plop down on my little twin bed, and a moment later, a pathetic little ding comes from my bag. I pull out my phone, a cheap little thing which I only have because Marco insisted on getting me one so that I could get in contact with him about the store if the need ever arose, and a message from an unknown sender pops up.

**???:**

hey, this is Lee :)

A small smile tugs itself onto my face, and I reply.

**Me:**

hey, this is El

**Lee:**

get home safe?

**Me:**

yeah, hbu?

**Lee:**

yeah

so

for our, date, I would normally suggest coffee but…

**Me:**

haha very funny

**Lee:**

right so instead I was thinking I could treat you to dinner

**Me:**

gonna wine and dine yourself into my bed?

**Lee:**

yes ;)

there a problem with that?

**Me:**

not at all :)

**Lee:**

do you work tomorrow

**Me:**

no

**Lee:**

can we do dinner tomorrow night then?

**Me:**

yes that sounds great!

**Lee:**

i'll find us a place then and text you a time and place tomorrow

that okay?

**Me:**

yes, very much!

just nothing fancy pls

**Lee:**

okay, sounds great!

goodnight then, El :)

**Me:**

goodnight :)

I suppress a squeal of excitement and ready myself for bed.

It had been a good night, the best night I had had in Rao knows how long, and I fall asleep far more easily than I am used to.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gate City is the name of a neighborhood in Birmingham btw, though it's not necessarily a direct inspiration for the area in the fic


	5. First Date

I should've left ten minutes ago, but I'm still laying in bed.

It's a well known fact at the cafe that I'm basically always late to my morning shift, but no one has seemed to really care yet, at least too much. Marco's shop is a small enough affair that there's only ever one of us working there at a time, so there's no one ever there to let down.

This is different than that, but it's also the same. I'm not usually (read: never) excited to go to work, but I am excited for this. I'm already all dolled up, ready to leave at a moment's notice.

I'm just tired.

Not from lack of sleep (though good sleep has always been hard to come by for me), and it's not like I've even really done anything today. But I'm tired, tired beyond belief.

Maybe it's because I'm not eating well. Maybe it's because I never feel like I have the energy to cook, so instead, I just let my hunger pass until it becomes something dull instead of sharp and throbbing.

Maybe it's because I'm a fuckup, and I know it, so I don't feel like trying. Maybe it's an excuse not to try.

Or maybe I'm just tired, and there's not clear reason for it at all, and there never will be.

So I don't know why I'm tired, I don't know why I'm laying on my bed, eyes lazily fixed to the ceiling. I do know that I  _could_  move my arms, my legs, my body if I wanted to. I know that I have the energy to do it, deep down inside of me. It'd be such an easy thing, to move a muscle, to slide out of bed. But for some reason I can't, I won't, and it's like I just don't have the  _will_  anymore.

It's the same as with my powers. They're there, I know it, but for some reason, I can't reach for them.

Another five minutes pass, and another, and soon enough, it's only ten minutes until I'm supposed to be at the park to meet her. I fish my phone out of my pocket, shoot Lee a quick text that I'm going to be late, and somehow, for some reason I can't explain, I finally find the will to shift out of bed and stagger out the door.

We plan to meet at John Young Park, which is a fair ways away from where I live, but still just close enough that I can walk there without taking a bus. The walk rejuvenates me, and I can feel my earlier excitement start to buzz through me again.

By the time I arrive, the sun has dipped just below the city skyline, and the world is awash with golden hues, making everything feel more alive. The sunlight spins oak leaves into glittered reflections of silver and gold, and even the grass underfoot seems like it is burning with life. It's the time of evening that photographers and painters call golden hour, and it almost makes me want to crack out my paints again when I get home.

Since I'm a little late, Lee is already there waiting there for me. She's wearing tight-fitting black slacks and a refined but simple peacoat, and I know that if I do paint later tonight, it'll be of her meeting me at the park. Her dark hair shines with a brilliant luster, and I find myself blushing at the sight before I can even approach her.

Honestly, I don't know what a woman this beautiful is doing with someone like me.

"Hey!" she calls out to me as I approach.

"Hey," I reply with a shy smile.

"It's good to see you again." She holds out her arms for a hug, and I let myself fall into it, relishing the contact. It had been a long time since someone has casually hugged me, and her hug makes me realize how much I have missed it. "You look great, by the way," she says, stepping back to get a good look at me.

"Thanks," I say, my cheeks pink, "you look really great too."

"Thanks," she says, with a sweet smile. "So, how do you feel about Chinese?" My assis-- my friend, Jess," she says, stumbling over her words a little, "recommended to me this great little place, and she says their dumplings are to die for."

I blink at her in surprise. Chinese is my favorite, though I don't recall ever telling her that.

"What, is Chinese no good? We can go somewhere else, there's also this--"

"No, Chinese is good. Really great actually," I say, offering her a sheepish smile. "Potstickers are like my favorite food, so that sounds wonderful."

"Oh, that's great then. I was thinking that maybe afterwards, we could go for a walk or something on the waterfront?"

"That would be wonderful too." I gently nudge her hand with mine and she grabs it, shooting me a smile.

We walk hand in hand through the city, heading towards the waterfront. It's a fairly short walk to restaurant, and since it's only two blocks away from the water, it's just close enough to hear the faint lap of waves against the seawall. Cantonese words are scrawled across windows that reveal a warm, cozy interior, and Lee guides me inside.

The restaurant is filled with older people, and overwhelmingly older Chinese people. A waiter guides us to an empty table in the back, and we settle down into it.

"Well, I guess this place is pretty authentic," Lee chuckles, almost nervously.

"Probably," I reply unfazed. I was almost always the only alien in places full of humans, so this wasn't so much of a change for me.

"Yes, well, I asked Jess for a place where we wouldn't run into anyone we knew, so I guess she picked well."

The waiter brings us two menus with English translations (though I can speak Cantonese, thanks to my pod and two decades in the phantom zone) and we begin scanning through it.

"Oh, sorry El," Lee says, frowning at the menu. "They don't have potstickers on here."

"Do you know what potstickers are?" I ask, bemused.

"Something like a dumpling?"

"Yeah," I laugh a little. "They're a type of dumpling. They have them here, they're just not called potstickers on the menu."

We look at the menu for a little while longer, before the waiter comes back to bring us water and take our order. Once he leaves, Lee leans over and gives me an inquisitive look.

"So, El, tell me a little bit about yourself. Did you grow up here in National city?"

"No," I begin hesitantly, "I actually grew up in a little town way up north of here. My family, they all died in terrible accident when I was thirteen. So I was taken in by an older couple I didn't know with a daughter. And they were nice enough, but it was never quite the same. Sometimes it was easy to forget, and to slip into the role of a Danvers. That was their name," I explain, "but I've always felt torn, between my adoptive identity, and my original identity."

"I think I understand. I actually grew up in a similar situation," she says with a small smile. "I was adopted when I was young, but was never able to fully fit in or adapt to their way of life, despite what everyone else seems to think," she finishes, somewhat bitterly.

"Look at us, two misfits, even among our family," I say with a smirk.

"I think you'd be surprised how common it is." Lee takes a drink of water and gives me a leveled gaze. "There's nothing that says we can't take what we want of both identities, though, and make of ourselves whatever we want."

"Maybe," I shrug, "but I don't know. You ever read the story 'Everyday Use' by Alice Walker?"

"No, actually," Lee says with a wry grin. "She wasn't the type of author my family wanted me to read growing up."

"Ah, well, in the story, there's this young woman, Dee, and she grows up in this pretty poor and rural house. But her mother pays for her to get an education, while her sister stays at home. Her education serves as a sort of cultural barrier between them, and eventually she goes away to further pursue her education. When she eventually comes back, her mother is surprised, because Dee has reclaimed all these African cultural customs that don't seem to make any sense to her. And so the mother spends the visit awkwardly judging her."

"Well, just because the mother judges her doesn't mean that she's wrong. Maybe the mother is just biased."

"Maybe," I concede. "But that doesn't change the fact that she's basically a consumer of different cultures."

"Well, when you're caught between cultures like that, what else is there left to do?"

"I don't know, just accept that you'll feel a little lost?"

We talk about the story and our own experiences related to it until the food comes, both of us pleasantly surprised that so much time had passed. It's a large, diverse spread, and I know that it'll fill me up more than any meal has in a long while.

"Oh, it looks lovely," Lee says with a smile, as the waiter sets down a plate of vegetables and noodles in front of her. "It's times like this that I'm envious of other people's cooking abilities."

"Well, I can't cook at all either, so I'm with you there."

"Last time I cooked," she says, looking me dead in the eyes, voice hushed so that no one else can overhear, "I tried to make scrambled eggs. Something so easy an eight year old can make. I ended up burning them so badly I set off the smoke detector."

"That's not great," I laugh. "I'm really not any better though. Last time I tried to make pancakes, I accidentally flipped one of them too hard and sent it splattering out of the pan."

Lee laughs, wild and uninhibited, and I think it's the kind of sound I could hear a lifetime of without growing tired of.

We share a few more stories of cooking disasters, before Lee shifts the conversation.

"So, cooking obviously isn't a hobby for you, but what is?"

"I actually used to be really into painting," I say, suddenly feeling very shy. "It's one of the few things I still do, occasionally. I just haven't felt much inspiration lately."

"That's still really nice though. I wish I could do something artistic," she says wistfully. "What kind of things do you like to paint?"

"I did a lot of landscapes at first. Of home, before I was adopted. It started as a way to remember, because I didn't want to forget what the sunsets looked like, or the people. But then I started to paint things that were more abstract, and I don't know. I just really liked it."

"That's really sweet."

"Thanks. And how about you?"

"Well, I really like tinkering around with tech stuff. Oh!" she exclaims, suddenly reminded of something exciting, "do you remember how the other day, I talked about how I loved to make tech that could help people?"

"Yeah, of course I do, silly" I say, rolling my eyes.

"Yes, well, I thought I'd share with you my most recent project. It's an alien detection device!" And with those words, her face lights up as if she had just told me she had found a cure for cancer.

"An… alien detection device?" I ask, something unpleasant roiling in my stomach.

"Yep! And it works really simply too, very noninvasive," she says, fishing out a small silver device from her bag. "You just press your finger here," she demonstrates, "and it'll flash green for human, and red for alien." The device flashes green, and she offers me a smile. "Do you want to try it?"

I ignore her question, and instead give her a concerned look. "Lee… do you, do you have a problem with aliens?"

"What? No," she says, waving off the notion as absurd. "Not at all."

"It just kinda seems like this device is sort of anti-alien," I say quietly.

"I'm not my brother," she says briskly, as if I know her brother, "I don't have a problem with aliens at all. But I think people have a right to know if the person they're talking with is an alien."

"But, Lee," I insist, "would you say the same about us?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Well, we clearly both like women," I say, gesturing between us, "would you have us branded with a little lavender pin?"

"That's-- that's not the same thing at all," she sputters, "aliens are capable of all sorts of things, and while many of them are good and kind, some of them are dangerous."

"'All sorts of things have been happening long before aliens, Lee," I say darkly. "It wasn't an alien who planted that bomb in Oklahoma, and aliens aren't the ones sending drones to bomb people across the world. It seems like humans are pretty dangerous to me."

"Yes, but humans are normal, aliens aren't."

"Are humans really 'normal'?" I challenge.

"Of course we are, this is our planet. And watch yourself, El. You're starting to talk as if you aren't human yourself."

"Well maybe I'm not."

Lee rolls her eyes. "I mean, you're on a date with me, so you would've told me by now if you weren't."

"Why would I have though?" I ask, my palms beginning to sweat. "If I were an alien, would I not have the right to be judged and loved on the basis of who I am, not which planet I was born on?"

"Yes, but that's an important part of a person," she says dismissively. "And, well, it's not like charade would last once things got to the bedroom, so what would be the point?" Her lips curl into a smirk, as if she's said something inordinately funny, and the twinge it draws from my gut reminds me of my first initial reaction of dislike towards her.

"But Lee," I begin, a slight edge in my voice, "there are aliens that can shape-shift perfectly, and others who just naturally look the same, even, you know," I gesture below the table, blushing slightly, "even down there."

"Really?" she asks, eyebrow cocked up. "And you know this how?"

"Because I've slept with aliens before," I mumble. "I know aliens. And you've probably met aliens before without knowing too."

"Perhaps," she says, after a long moment. "But that's exactly why they're so dangerous. They can trick us into thinking they're one of us."

"What if that's all they want to be!" I blurt out, unable to stay civil any longer. "What if they're just refugees, trying to find a new world to adapt to and live in?"

Lee regards me closely. "You have a fair point, and I like the passion from you," she says with a small smile. "Maybe you should be an advocate for aliens."

"That was sort of what I did before," I say softly. "Just think about it. Things like an Alien registry have already been proposed in order to document aliens that have potentially harmful abilities. This device, it would just drive a wedge between everyday people and everyday aliens. There's enough anti-alien sentiment as it is, without giving people an easy way to identify and discriminate against aliens."

"Maybe you're right," Lee says with a wry grin. "You've given me a lot to think about. Thanks for that, El. Not many people seem to do that for me these days."

"Thanks." I offer her a shy smile. "And I-- I'm aware that you're not just a simple engineer," I begin, and a look of panic flashes across her face. "No-- I don't know who you are, so don't worry about that," I say hastily, relief flitting back on her face. "I know we've both got some baggage we're holding back from the other, and that's alright with me. I just wanted to say, thank you for getting to know me. For treating me like an equal."

She beams, and shakes her head. "Of course, El. You're a remarkable woman, even if you doubt it sometimes."

"Thanks. I am going to change your mind on the alien thing though."

"I look forward to it."

We eat and talk about other things then, and I find myself a little blown away by her depth of knowledge. When I tell her just that, she explains to me that she had a very intensive education, one that she still feels both fondness and resentment for.

Eventually, the waiter comes back with the bill, and Lee insists on paying it in full. As we exit the restaurant, Lee pulls me to the side, around the back. It's dark, and far later than either of us realized while we were inside. She pushes me against the wall, devilish grin on her face.

"Hey," she says softly.

"Hey," I say back, mind clouded by the way her body is leaning over mine.

"I had a great time tonight."

"I would hope so, if you're pushing me against a wall," I tease. "Because I'm not sure I'd like the alternative."

"Fair point," she laughs, throaty and rich. "Can I steal a kiss from--?" she begins, but before she can finish, I lunge out and capture her lips with mine.

She kisses me, deep and strong, and I reach out to tangle my hands in her hair. I pull her close and she responds, opening the kiss, letting her hands wander. They dip below the hem of my shirt and drag it up, exposing my pale flesh, prickling in the chill night. She presses her body fully flush against mine, leaving me utterly breathless, and the brick behind me scrapes my back.

Who knew making out behind a Chinese restaurant could be so hot?

Lee breaks away and searches my eyes a little bit, before speaking. "Do you want to… get out of here?"

"Depends, where to?" I hum.

"Well, we stayed here pretty late, so the waterfront walk is probably off the cards. So I was thinking my place, actually," she says sheepishly, tugging on my blouse a little.

An affirmation is quick on my tongue, but I let it die there, considering the situation carefully.

Is it smart, getting involved with someone with views on aliens like her?

Probably not.

Is it healthy to keep that part of myself a secret, for me and her?

Again, probably not, but I hadn't planned on telling her anyways. I had lived as Kara Danvers, human, for over a decade, so there's no reason that I can't live my future as a human as well.

Does her antipathy toward aliens make me uncomfortable?

Yes.

But am I going to do this whole thing anyways, consequences be damned?

Probably.

It's not like my lifestyle has been particularly healthy lately anyways, so why not throw in a questionable relationship as well?

"You sure?" I ask, looking into her eyes carefully.

"Definitely."

She calls a cab and we climb in, opting to chat quietly rather than continue what we had been doing outside. When the cab pulls up to her apartment building, it takes me a long moment to really process it.

I had already pieced together that she was rich, but not this rich. Because this is the same building that Cat Grant used to live in.

"Fuck, Lee. You're loaded, aren't you?" I ask, climbing out of the cab.

"A little bit," she says, wincing. "I didn't really want you to know, until I was comfortable with it."

"Why, worried I'd be a gold digger?" I tease.

"A little bit I suppose, but mostly, I'm a little embarrassed by it. My wealth," she says, wrinkling her nose. "And I didn't know how you'd feel about it."

"I will say, after living in Southside for so long, I've got a little bit of a chip on my shoulder when it comes to rich people. But something tells you you're not the typical rich person." I give her a wink, and she rolls her eyes.

"Thanks for your professional assessment. Glad to have your trust."

"It's no problem at all."

We ride the elevator to her penthouse apartment, and there's quiet tension between us. This is a step forward for us, though I don't think either one of us really knows what will come the next day, or week. But for the first time in a long time, I am excited to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the lovely feedback and comments so far! It means a lot to know that people are reading and enjoying the story :)
> 
> Lena's still got some learning to do about aliens :/ People learn, change, and grow though, and what's really important is being open to that growth :) If I was an alien though, I wouldn't have slept with someone who thought like that. Would y'all've?
> 
> I meant to mention the fact that she still paints earlier in the story, but I forgot. The woes of putting up chapters before the entire thing is finished :(
> 
> I also meant for this chapter to be a bit fluffier, but it ended up being p angsty anyways. I guess I'm just the "all happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way" kind of writer. The next chapter is the one that really sparks the rest of the story, so plot(ish) is incoming!


	6. The Stranger in the Room

The next morning I wake up in Lee's bed to the smell of burning eggs.

She hadn't been joking about not being able to cook, but it doesn't matter because the domesticity of it is sweet in a way I've never really experienced with someone before. I'd never had anyone cook me breakfast like that outside of the Danvers, and I hadn't realized just how much I wanted that with someone else.

It's enough, and for the first time in a long time, I feel at peace.

The next two weeks go by faster than I expected they would.

Lee became a constant presence in my life, in the periphery of most things I did. She came to the cafe every evening that I worked, and though she always came with her laptop, more often than not, our evenings were filled with more talking than work. When we were both free, we went out on dates. We went to the park again, just walking and talking. We caught a movie, and made out in the back like a pair of horny teenagers. We went out to dinner again, twice, and last weekend, we went out to the beach.

We had really begun to open up with each other as well, about out backgrounds and past. We talked about our parents, and life our home lives as children. We talked about what college was like, and about our siblings, about her psychotic brother, and my protective sister.

I still hadn't shared with her that I was an alien, and she still hadn't told me who she really was, but we were growing close, far closer than I had with anyone over the last two years.

As time ticked by, it was easy to fall into a sort of lull, a sort of expectation that things would continue unhindered the way they were. I was sure that if my life was going to implode around me, it was going to because of Lee, either because of a secret I've been withholding from her, or a secret she's been withholding from me.

Which is why it catches me totally by surprise when  _he_  comes into the coffee shop.

Lee is sitting at her usual table and I'm behind the counter tidying up for the day. When the door jingles open, my back is to the wall, and though there are technically still a few minutes before shop closes up for the night, I decide to close up anyways, customer be damned.

"Sorry," I begin, turning around,"we're closing now and--"

My breath catches, and my heart shudders to a stop.

He looks different than I remembered. He's let his facial hair grow out a bit and it looks ridiculous, but without his best friend there to tell him, it's not a surprise. He looks almost sort of haggard, like he hasn't been sleeping well, and there's a look of reservation on his face, one that I'm not used to seeing. He had always been an open book to me, goofy and quick with a grin, but that was gone, at least in this moment.

"Kara?" he asks, only it's less of a question and more of a statement.

Why was he here? Why did he have to come here and ruin things? I can feel my body start to tremble, and it takes me a moment to collect myself.

"I'm sorry, there's no Kara here." I turn back around to finish cleaning up for the night, but my hands are shaking so much that I drop the coffee mug I'm holding. It shatters against the tile, but I don't flinch, I don't move, eyes spellbound to its broken shards.

"Kara, it's alright. I know it's you."

I ignore him and unsteadily grab the broom resting against the back wall.

"Kara, dron't make me use your other name. I'd hate to let your little friend over there in on the full secret, but I will," he says, eyes flicking over to Lee, who is watching us worriedly. "Though something tells me that maybe she wouldn't want me to say her full name either," he says, a dangerous edge in his voice, and Lee's face grows hard.

"Hey, I don't know who you think you are," Lee begins, "but--"

"Sorry, Lena. But this conversation is between me and Kara," he says, his voice far more confident and assured than it ever was when I knew him before. Apparently, he'd also become quite the asshole. And apparently Lee's real name was Lena. Not that Lee was a fake name, because that was a reasonable nickname. But did I know a Lena from anywhere?

"Winn," I say bluntly, dropping my act, "get out."

"No," he replies sharply. "It's been two years. We deserve answers, Kara. I deserve answers, I was your best friend, for fuck's sake! So where the hell have you been for the last two years?"

I shrug, and hold his glare. "I don't have to answer to you, Winn. I'm my own person." And I wish I sounded badass and firm, but I can tell by the pitying look he gives me that there's a quiver to my voice that gives me away.

"No person is an Island, Kara. You can't just disappear and leave us wondering if you're dead or alive! Do you know how worried, and sick, and horrified everyone has been by this? Do you know what it's done to Alex?"

"Winn," I growl as a warning, less shocked and more angry now. Something dark, and nasty is building up from my gut, and whatever it is, it's terrifying. I can't think about Alex. I can't think about what I've done to her. I can't think about it, I can't I can't I can't. It would kill me to. That's why it's better this way. This way I'm just El, and I don't have to be anybody to anyone. I can't let them down, I don't have to do anything, or be anybody at all. Just El, part-time barista, drifter, and occasional junkie.

"Kara, we deserve to know, we--"

"You think I don't know that!" I shout. "You think that this hasn't destroyed me, Winn? You think I'm just living it up, that I'm not just trying to bury myself?"

"Kara, I--"

"Leave, Winn." I lean over the counter, my knuckles white as they clutched the countertop's edge.

"No," he replies, standing firm.

"Winn, if you don't leave right now, so help me Rao I will--"

"Will what? Kill me? Beat the shit out of me?"

"Yeah, maybe," I say, cracking my knuckles in an attempt to look intimidating.

Winn just smirks though, and shakes his head. "How about this, Kara. We both ask each other three questions, and then we part ways. If you don't want anything to do with me afterwards, I'll never reach out to you again."

"There's nothing I want to ask you," I say blankly.

"Yes, there is," he says softly. "And I know there is because I know you, Kara."

Something collapses in me, and I know that he is right. I hadn't tried to follow their lives at all, over the last two years, but now that I had the chance to learn, just a tiny bit, I couldn't give it up. I glance over at Lee, who is watching our exchange with an inscrutable look. "Lee, could you go, and come back tomorrow maybe?" I ask, sending her an apologetic look. She nods slowly in response and packs her bag.

"Bye, El," she calls out softly, as she moves to the door. "Call me later, if you want to." I nod, and she leaves.

"So how did you find me?" I ask, point blank before Winn has a chance to speak.

He sighs, and gives me a disappointed look. "Is that really the question you want to ask?"

"Yes."

"Fine. I made an algorithm, using facial recognition software, that alerts me when you appear on any security cameras or uploaded pictures. It hadn't picked up anything definitive in the last two years, because I guess you've avoided cameras and stuff pretty well. Honestly, I thought you had left National City. But I guess not," he says, shrugging. "The other day though, it picked you up when you were out with your friend. And so I tracked you down from there. Took me a while, a long while, but I did it," he says softly. "Now my turn for a question. That day, when everyone thought you died. What really happened?"

I shrug, and offer him a wry smile. "Honestly? I don't really remember. It's not surprising, really. I was under so much stress and pressure back then, I was hardly even all there that day. But whatever happened, happened. I came to, behind a dumpster, found that I couldn't fly. Or wouldn't fly. And so I dragged myself away, and I… I sort of decided to wait, for a little while, before going back. And I don't know, by the end of the day, I had seen the news, and I came to a sort of understanding with myself that I wasn't going to go back. That I was going to stay dead. And that was that," I finish, giving him a somber look.

"Okay," he says softly.

"How have things been for you, and everyone else at CatCo?"

"I'm not actually at CatCo anymore," Winn says, the corners of his lips just slightly upturned. "The DEO wanted to bring me on board as a tech guy, and so I came on board. It's been tough there, without you, but we're making do. James has been acting CEO of CatCo for the last year, ever since Cat left," he says with a slight sigh. "I don't think he really likes the position all the much, but he's making it work. And Lucy's back in Metropolis, but I'm not really sure what she's been doing, we haven't really stayed in touch."

"That's good," I say softly, mulling over the information. "I guess everyone has been moving full steam ahead with their lives. Who would've thought that I'd be the fuck up of the group," I say shooting him a lopsided smile.

"I don't know about that."

"You don't know the half of it."

"Tell me then. What have you been doing the last two years, Kara?" There's a hint of trepidation in his eyes, as if he already knows that he's going to be hopelessly disappointed by the answer.

"I've been… around," I say weakly. "I've been getting more familiar with the alien population, here. Got mixed up with some self-destructive tendencies, but I've bounced back. Honestly, there's about a year of my life that's gone now, that I can barely remember," I say, my mouth cotton. "Now, I'm working at a coffee shop, and I just started seeing someone. So things are a bit better now, I guess. And that's really about it.

"Alright then," he says softly. "And your powers? Are you still using them?"

"Nuh uh, Winn. That's another question, and it's my turn to ask now," I say, rolling my eyes. He has the decency to look at least a little chagrined, and for a moment, it almost feels like we're back to normal. Almost.

"So…" I begin, working up my courage. "How's Alex?" I ask, my voice cracking a little bit. "And I don't want to know that she misses me, or anything. I just want to know… her life. What she's been doing the last two years."

"She's still at the DEO," Winn says softly. "Same position, and everything. Still working her ass off to protect us all. She's… seeing someone now."

"That's good," I whisper.

"Yeah. Maggie. She's been really great for her."

"Alex… She's gay?" I ask, my voice cracking again, something deep inside me breaking all over again. How could I have not known?

"Yeah. Guess it runs in the family," he says offering me a crooked grin.

"Fuck," I say softly, massaging my temples.

I had missed so much. I had never known, or let alone suspected that Alex might like women, and I had been too wrapped up in myself for her to open herself up to me. That in itself is unforgivable, let alone my absence the last two years.

"So what's your last question?" I ask.

"Did you ever plan on coming back?" The question hangs in the air, and something terrible builds inside of me.

"You already know the answer to that."

Winn's eyes water slightly, and his resolve seems to crack a little. "Fine. I'll ask it differently then. Do you-- do you think you could ever come back to us, not as Supergirl, or even as Kara Danvers, but… just as our Kara? My best friend Kara? No responsibilities, or obligations, or--"

Panic swells inside me, and I can feel my body begin to tremble again. I can't deal with this, with him saying these things, I can't-- I can't even't begin to think about dealing with this, I-- I--

"Winn," I begin, feeling sobs rising up from me. "Leave, please."

"No."

"Winn," I say, anger lacing my tone. "You need to go."

"No, because Kara, you have to face things eventually. You can't hide away forever! You can't--"

"Yes I can!" I shout. "I can and I will because I can't do it, Winn," I say, voice and breath coming out ragged and hoarse. "I can't do what you want me to. I can't, I can't, I--"

"You can!" he interjects. "I believe in you, I know you Kara, and I know--"

"You don't know anything! You don't know what I'm really like, how pathetic I am," I say, something akin to a laugh of hysteria ripping through me. "Winn, I can't even fucking get up out of bed most days, let alone be Supergirl."

"I'm not asking you to be Supergirl again."

"I know. But I don't think I can be Kara Danvers again either."

"Yes you can," he pleads. "I have faith in you, as my best friend, and I know you can do it. We love and miss you, and we just want you back, and in anyway that we can have you."

And I know what he's saying makes sense, but I  _can't_. Something inside of me just won't do it, won't listen to his words, won't believe that I can.

Winn continues speaking, thinking my silence as an invitation to continue his efforts to convince me, but I stop listening.

I feel myself swaying on my feet, mind drowning in a violent sea of thoughts. A horrible anxiety rises up me, and something in me  _breaks_. I can't think clearly, can't think at all, and I just need it to stop. I just need it all to stop.

Winn stops speaking and looks at me expectantly, but all I can do is shake my head slightly, and after a long moment, three words slip from my lips.

"Just leave, please."

Something about my voice is so pathetic, it makes Winn shrink back a little and go unnaturally still. I wonder what its like, to see the woman you pined after for so long, reduced to a blubbering, addled mess. I wonder what it's like, to see the girl of steel, fall apart like something made of flimsy press-wood from Walmart. I wonder what it's like, to see your best friend, in a state so pitiful that you can't even bear to look at her.

Wordlessly, Winn turns around and leaves the shop.

Hands shaking, mind in free fall, I pull out my phone and call a number I haven't touched in months. A few rings later, it picks up.

"Hey," I say softly, my voice trembling. "I need a fix."

 _"Meet me by the tracks then, at our old spot,_ " the eerie voice chimes in. _"The house is still running, if you want to stay there."_

"No, I just need a fix."

_"See you in what, thirty then?"_

"Yeah."

_"You remember the price?"_

"Yeah."

_"Good."_

The line disconnects, and I try not to cry too loudly as I finish closing up the shop.

But I wouldn't have to worry about anything anymore in a little while

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately Kara's gotta get her shit figured out before she can be happy and in an actually functional relationship :(


	7. Sunken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: alien drug use

It was only supposed to be a quick fix.

I had just wanted to forget, for a little while. To not feel so fucked up. To not feel so alone and desperate.

It was just supposed to be a hit, one hit (or two or three at most) of some shit with a name I still couldn't pronounce, from some planet I had never even heard of growing up on Krypton. Something to dull everything, for the night.

But that's never the way it happens, not with me, at least not anymore. Not since my first days of tentative experimentation a year and a half ago. Which is why I hadn't touched the stuff since I decided to stay clean, because for me, it always spirals out of my control, and more often then not, I end up back at the house, National City's alien equivalent of a crack house and opium den combined.

And of course, that's where I am now.

Honestly, I don't even remember how I got here at this point. I just know that I'm here, and that I'm being drawn further and further in every moment I linger, every time I use just a little bit more.

I'm in a haze, and I think I have been for a long while.

I'm drifting in and out, in a dull, aching numbness, a floaty sinkyness. I stretch out on torn up sofas, cracked concrete floors, a shingled roof, a chick who might just have shingles.

.

.

.

I'm not sure how much time passes.

.

.

.

There are books, and magazines, in languages I do and don't know, spread on the floor, some with missing pages, some without bindings. Food, scraps, half-empty bags, bread with growth that may or may not be Earthly in origin, water, or some other liquid, in bottles, good for drinking or a high either way. Card games and board games and everything in between, and people are talking--

And the people, the beautiful people, all chasing the same high, low, or whatever. Good for quick fuck, or no fuck, or whatever it is that you do or don't do with them, all sorts of weird anatomy and social norms but none of it matters and all of it does and it all blends together so beautifully and life is beautiful.

Beautifully empty.

.

.

Empty.

.

.

So empty.

.

.

At some point I think I remember J'axon from the halfway house coming to take me away. But I wouldnt go. Why wouldnt they understand? It was better this way. I was better this way and itd only been like a day. Or two maybe tops and that was like nothing Id be back soon enough at some point maybe when it was bearable to move on.

Id be back when the pain went away and everything was okay again and thatd happen soon enough. It had to happen because I couldnt go on if it didnt and I had to go on because thats what I did thats what I do its the only thing I can do anymore because fucking Supergirl just wont die so Id be back when the pain went away and everything was okay and thatd happen soon enough.

Soon.

.

Enough.

.

I got more and more and I ran out of more and more but I found more and more and I did more and more and I did more and more things to get more and more I dont know what it was but I did it and its funny to imagine that im Supergirl and that Supergirl is lying on the floor of an alien crack house because shes so broken and what would carter or alex or all those other people think if they saw me now?

.

.

and i dont know when it was when i finally realized it. i finally realized what i needed because my mind is all clouded but thats not important because i finally realized what i needed.

it was something that was missing. something i wanted something i needed. someone i needed. all of this would be so much better with lee. maybe it was time to leave. to spend some time with lee. some cuddling. dates at the park. coffee and kisses and rough fucks pressed against some crumbling brick wall in SOUTHSIDE. maybe we could go at it back behind that chinese place. thatd be fun.

i need her.

i miss her.

my phone fumbles out into my hand but it wont turn on it wont turn on and i realize that it has no charge but thats okay because there is a charger somewhere i know it because i used it once when i was in here last time so much time ago (or maybe not much time ago).

i find it.

.

eventually.

.

at some point.

and I plug my phone

in.

it doesnt charge though i think the charger is broken or not the charger its the outlet the work never got done on it or a squirrel chewed it or something so i find another and it works and my phone charges and the little battery icon gets all green and--

and I call her

the first call doesnt go through and its just voicemail and voicemail and voicemail

and neither does the second or the second

    and the third nor--

                  and the fourth

                                                        and and the fifth

                                                        and and the fifth

and the sixand theseventh andthe eighthandthe ninthand thetenth andthetenth andthetenth andthetenthandtheeleventhandthetwelfth and she finally picks up on lucky number thirteen and im happy because i was about to lose count and i want to beam when i hear her voice so wonderfully curt and beautiful and lovely but i cant because something is wrong with my body and it hurts and it HURTS and i want i NEED another fix but i have LEE on the phone and im not leaving now so I frown instead of smile and i whimper instead of beam

"LEE" i whimper "i need you"

_"El."_

her voice is funny through static but i think her tone is cold it should be at least because that would make a lot of sense but why i dont know i just know and--

_"Do you know how many times I've called you? Gone to the coffee shop? Do you even know how long it's been?"_

"three days" i guess so sure and proud of myself for my estimation which is so scientific and--

_"Three weeks. It's been three weeks."_

and she sounds so broken with those words and it breaks me too "no no no no no no no no" i stutter stutter stutter "its just been a couple of days thats all LEE i wouldnt i wouldnt disappear on you like that i wouldnt i wouldnt i wouldnt--"

_"Well you did, El. Or Kara. Or whoever the fuck you are."_

she shouts it and her voice is rough and grating and it makes me want to clamp my hands over my ears but i cant because the phone is pressed against my ear and--

_"Whatever the fuck you are."_

"what" i ask and its breathless because i dont know what she means and im confused and i need her to explain and--

_"I tracked it down, you know. Your halfway house."_

"oh" i say a realization settling over me though what that realization was I couldnt quite figure out and i think it might be--

_"You're an alien."_

and thats what it was "well im not maybe to you earth people but im not im a kryptonian not an alien silly" because of course i am and she she--

_"What?"_

"stop being silly LEE and come here i need you" i say desperate so desperate and my veins feel empty and my heart feels empty and im so cold so cold and i dont know anymore and i dont know i dont know i--

"Where are you?"

the house im

     at

the house

                    i tell her

                     and i think she keeps speaking but i``

             dont know

any

more

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It follows that if there's alien booze in the show, then surely there are harder things too, and who knows what they'd do to you
> 
> Ive always thought it was tacky when people wrote in prose like this but i kinda wanted to give it a stab, and i figure fanfic is a pretty low-stakes environment to play around in. Plus it was a fun little challenge to write, and improving and experimenting with my writing was my main reason for writing fanfic in the first place


	8. No Pain Like Starting Over

It hurts.

Everything, it all hurts.

I don't want to open my eyes. I know that the light outside, no matter how feeble it is, will bring pain.

But I do, out of instinct if nothing else.

There's no one else in the room. It's a hospital room, and not a nice one. It's all shadows and soft edges barely illuminated by flickering florescent lighting. It's nothing like the kind of room that I woke up in last time. Either way, Kal-EL isn't here, standing over me this time, with a look that is equal parts disappointment, pity, and heartbreak. No one is.

And I can't remember a single fucking thing.

I panic, breathing in roughly. There's no one here to calm me down.

My hands flex out and clench the edges of the bed, but they're weak, far too weak, and when look at them, thin ridges of bones are visible underneath nearly translucent skin.

I close my eyes and take in deep, ragged breaths, until they even out, and after a little while I sit up. My body aches, but not nearly as much as I think it should. There is no fever, no shaking, no nausea. Somehow, I'm past the point of withdrawal.

There's a craving though. Fuck, is there still a craving. My skin itches with it and I can feel a pang of desire for it in each pulse of my blood.

I wait but nobody comes, so I stretch my limbs out a little, trying not to look at how frail and thin my body is.

And then come down my memories.

Lee at the shop, and Winn, and the meeting by the railroad tracks.

Flashes, glimpses, brutal aches of numbness from my stay at the house. How had I left? J'axon had came, but they had left without me. Had I called Kal-El again? No. He would be here by now, ears attuned to my awakening, ready to scold me. It was--

Oh god, it was Lee.

It had been three weeks at the house. Which isn't nearly as bad as last time, but still terrible either way.

And Lee, poor Lee. She had figured me out, that I'm an alien, and I had given her the final piece to the puzzle that was me. That I am a Kryptonian. Lee is smart. There's no way she hasn't already put it together, and Rao only knows what she thinks of me now.

Five people know Supergirl is alive now. Lee and Winn and J'axon and Kal-El and me.

Fuck.

The door opens, and a doctor who is distinctly non-human walks in. I'm at an alien clinic, I realize. Lee must've gotten J'axon to help figure out what to do with me.

"Looks like you're finally awake," they say dryly. "A bit ahead of schedule, but I should've expected it from you." The doctor steps up to my bedside, checking my vital signs on the monitor beside me. "You've been in a medically induced sleep for around a week now, to help take the edge off the withdrawal while your body heals itself."

"A week," I mumble. It had been four weeks since the last time I had had a clear thought, since I had gone to work. Four weeks is also twice as long as I had dated Lee for, which didn't exactly bode well for our relationship. As well as the whole alien thing. So that's all probably well over and out of the question now.

"Yes. And you're damn lucky you're built the way you are, because you'd be in a hell of a lot more pain if you were most anyone else."

"Right," I mumble. Another thing to feel guilty about.

"Anyways, now that you're up, we're going to go ahead and discharge you as soon as someone comes to pick you up," he says

"Oh. I-- I don't think I have anyone to take me any more."

The doctor raises an eyebrow. "Not everyone would stick with you through a relapse like this, but it seems like you're quite lucky. J'axon has said that they are willing to still put you up, but your human friend seemed pretty insistent on having you come with them once you woke up."

"Human friend?" I repeat dumbly.

"Yes. Your human friend? Lena?"

"Oh," I squeak, hoping the surprise isn't too evident in my voice.

"I'll go ahead and contact her now. Best of luck, Kryptonian," the doctor says, before leaving the room. "Don't let it happen again."

Make that six people who know. And maybe seven, because obviously the doctor who had treated me last time must've known. So much for it being a secret.

Fuck. And now I have to wait to be rescued from my hospital bed.

Apparently, medically induced sleeps don't leave you feeling particularly rested though, because it only takes a few moments once he leaves for me to drift away into a dreamless sleep.

//

When I wake, Lee is leaning silently against the door frame, and I can't tell how long she's been there. She doesn't look happy to see me, but she doesn't look unhappy either. Her eyes are calm, and she looks just as stunning as always, though the shadows around her eyes are a bit darker and deeper than usual.

"Hey," I say softly, unable to look away from her quiet gaze.

"Hey," she echoes. She stays quiet, like she's expecting me to speak, to explain myself.

"I-- I don't know what to say," I say slowly, drawing my words out as I consider what to say next. "It's all really incredibly humiliating, actually. I didn't think that would ever happen again. But it did, and I can't really make up for that," I continue, offering her a sad grimace. "I'm not sure I'd be able to forgive me, if I was you, so I don't expect you to," I finish, tearing my eyes away and redirecting them to my lap, where my hands are fidgeting together.

Lee stays in the doorway for a moment, before moving over and settling in on the edge of my bed.

"It's-- it's hard," she says quietly. "But I've had a week to cool down, and to think about things. And I do have some things I want to say, but first… what name do you want me to call you by?" She studies me carefully, and I know that this question is weighted precisely, exactly, and it's implications are endless.

I need to be strong for her, to repay her faith and trust in me. Can I be better? Can I ever go back, to the life I once had?

I don't know. And it's still terrifying as fuck to think about.

But I need to decide, right here and now.

I want to go back, to keep it easy and simple. To stay El, the faceless barista. But I can't. Not after that time with Lee, I can't go back to that, and regardless of her, I don't want to end up in the house again. So I need to say it.

"Kara," I croak, the name harsh and unfamiliar on my tongue. "Call me Kara."

"Kara," Lee repeats softly. "That's a lovely name. It's what your friend called you, before, right?"

"Yeah. He knew me as Kara Danvers, and as-- as Supergirl," I choke out, my eyes avoiding Lee's expression. "But there's more to me than that. My full name, my real name, then one I had growing up, before coming to earth. It's Kara Zor-El."

"So that's where El is from," Lee muses.

"Yeah. It's my family name."

"And so you are Supergirl."

"Was," I correct softly. "I-- I've lost my powers. Well, I haven't lost them. They're there, inside of me. I can feel them, but I can't reach for them. I should be able to, I mean it's just a simple part of me. But I can't."

"I see," she mummers. "So… why?" she asks, searching into the depths of my eyes with her own. "Why have Supergirl die?"

I draw in a shaky breath, and offer her a sad smile. "Like I've mentioned to you before, when I was just an assistant at CatCo, I thought I was wasting my potential. And so, when I started the whole hero thing, I was so excited to be Supergirl at first. And, I mean, can you blame me? I am the last of my people. I needed to be more, for the legacy of Krypton and the house of EL."

"What about Superman?"

" Kal-El-- Superman-- isn't really of Krypton, he knows almost nothing of what Krypton was really like. He can't even speak our language, without sounding like a toddler with a mouth full of gravel," I say, with a bitter chuckle. "So it didn't help, that my little cousin who I was supposed to protect, who hardly even  _knew_  of our world, was out there doing great things, while I did nothing."

"It's not fair to you to compare yourself to him, he--"

"I know, I know, Lee. But my powers make me something like a goddess here on Earth, and I was doing what? Fetching coffee?" I ask, my voice cracking slightly. "While my little cousin, who I was sent here to protect, was saving the world? My life wasn't what I had hoped for, what I had expected. So, I ended up falling into the role of Supergirl, and it was nice, at first. It was hard, but nice. I was saving people, living up to my potential. But in the end, I just made everything messier, and everyone expected so much of me. You don't know what it's like, to have an entire city, praying and waiting for you to save them. Every robbery, stabbing, every everything. All the guilt, when you fail, when you're too busy sleeping to save them, or eating, or talking with a friend. It's too much. Fuck, even back when I was just Kara Danvers, assistant, there were days where it was hard just to go to work, come home, and eat and clean and sleep. Being Supergirl on top of all that… it was too much. Too much for anyone."

"That's… understandable," she says, faces mused in thought. "Surprisingly human, actually."

"Yeah," I say, lips turning up in a slight smile. "When most people think of someone like a superhero falling or burning out catastrophically, they imagine some massive villain, with huge stakes. Some big sacrifice, or some inability to match up to an awesome power. But, the reality is, I'm still a person, one whose struggling with minute burdens of a culture I didn't grow up in. It's the everyday, the grind, the getting up in the morning, that's hard. It's easy to bounce back after one, huge tragedy that you can pinpoint and put all the blame on. It's so much harder when it's lots of little things."

"I guess I get that."

"Maybe," I say, more words pouring out of me. "Krypton didn't have the nine-to-five, you know. It's just been tough. It's a totally different way of life than I ever thought I'd live. And then, I thought maybe by being Supergirl, I could really help people, do more than just be some menial worker. But no matter how hard I worked, I couldn't solve the real problems. I can't fund underprivileged schools. I can't break generational poverty. I can't bring hope to people whose everyday is almost totally unaffected by me stopping some rogue military robot, or by breaking up some small little robbery downtown. And fuck, obviously I can't save some kid's parent from drug addiction," I say with a bitter laugh, "so honestly, I don't know. I just-- it just sucks, everything."

"I never really thought about it that way from the perspective of a superhero, but I can actually relate to that last part," Lee says, hesitating a little. "I have a lot pressure on my shoulders, and a lot of the time, I feel inadequate for not making a larger impact on people than I do."

I nod mutely.

"Now that you've been honest with me, I should be honest with you," Lena says softly, avoiding my eyes. "I've told you quite a bit about my brother. How he hates aliens, how he's kinda grown totally crazy and psychopathic the last few years. Well, he's someone you, as Supergirl, know."

"Someone I know," I repeat softly. Because of course he is. Because of course she is  _his_  sister, of course I had already pieced together what she's about to say next, because I'm not an idiot. I'm just willfully ignorant, and now I have to deal with the reality of it.

"His name is Lex Luthor."

"You're a Luthor."

"Yes."

"Your brother tried to kill my last remaining family."

"Yes."

"I, um. Thanks for telling me that," I say, taking in a deep breath.

"You already knew, didn't you."

"I suspected, but I never tried to confirm it. You can't tell me you didn't go through the same process about me being an alien, after our first date."

"I'll admit I had my suspicions, but you're right. I didn't want to know, didn't want to confirm it."

"What a fucked up mess we are," I say, a bitter chuckle rolling through me. "A Luthor and a Super."

"I guess this wasn't ever going to work, was it?" she says, her mouth a grim line

"Oh?" I reply softly, trying not to let a note of pain leak into my voice. Because I knew we probably weren't an item anymore after my relapse, but her insinuation seemed to say something entirely different and unpleasant.

"I mean, a Super and a Luthor? We were doomed from the start, totally incompatible opposites."

I just shrug my shoulders and give her a pained look, because her words hurt. Because I know that we shouldn't be together that way right now, I need to get myself figured out before any of that. But that didn't mean I thought we were doomed, or 'incompatible.'

"So, I've been considering your situation," she continues, hurriedly shifting the focus of the conversation, "and I've come up with an offer for you, if you are so inclined. I have a spare little nondescript apartment, and for the time being, I think it would be smart for you to move into there. You can find a job, a full-time one, and I can pay for you to start seeing a therapist. And you'd be welcome to that, so long as you stayed totally clean, and stayed far, far away from that hellhole I dragged you out of."

"Lee, you don't need to--"

"You're right, I don't," she says curtly, "but regardless of what has happened, you are my friend, and I want to help you. So I'll let you stay in my spare apartment, and I'll come over for dinner as much as I can, and you can try to get yourself back together. Sound like a plan?"

Looking in her eyes, I can see there's no room for negotiation. So I nod and give her a soft smile.

"Alright, let's try it."

She returns my smile, and I try to tamp down the fluttering in my heart at the warmth in her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully the dialog wasn't too monologue-y
> 
> we're entering the final third of the story now, the one where hopefully things start to look up a bit
> 
> As a side note, obviously I've taken some big liberties with the portrayal of drug usage in this. The reality of it is a lot more nuanced, and the withdrawal process can be super brutal depending on what you're on. I chose not to depict that in here though, for a few reasons. Last chapter was a brutal enough depiction of Kara as it was, and I think the idea that Kara's super physiology kicks in to protect her from something as self-inflicted as withdrawal while she chooses to not help people as supergirl feeds into her guilt pretty well. And her relapse is a symptom of her other problems, not the cause, so I don't want to spend too much time on it bc its not what the story is really about.
> 
> I'm scheduled for extra work hours next week, so imma be dead lol. The other night I couldn't sleep bc I had the phantom sounds of children screaming at lunch and recess echoing in my head. So, realistically, from here on out, I'm planning on about a week between updates, but if I get around to writing this during the week, I'll post up sooner


	9. Sisyphus

I move into Lena's apartment. I find a job as a barista at Noonan's, the same job I held when I first came to National City out of college.

It's a lot tougher than I thought it would be. Which is silly, because after the last two years, I should know by now just how difficult this part is.

Getting back up on my feet. The monotony, the daily grind, all of it.

It starts with setting my alarm for the morning. Not letting it go to snooze. Forcing myself up, stumbling into the shower, shampooing my hair, washing my body, conditioning my hair. Dressing, drying my hair, getting out a spoon for yogurt, putting the yogurt in a bowl, adding berries and granola in, getting my wallet, my keys, my purse. Walking to work, putting one foot in front of the other, watching for cars, finding my balance again after I trip up on the cracked slabs of concrete that pass for sidewalks in this city, walking into work like I deserve to be there. Greeting customers, smiling, taking orders. Working the coffee presses, pumping syrup, pouring steamed milk. Ignoring the faint throb, the ache crawling under my skin still lingering from my last relapse. Trying to push it out of my mind, trying to push all three of those weeks out of my mind, trying to push the last two years out of my mind. Trying to ignore the fact that maybe Winn was wrong when he said that Alex doesn't shop at Noonan's anymore, and maybe Alex is about to walk in because she has a craving for sticky buns. Trying to forget all the hurt I caused her. Trying to not think of all the people that I let down, that Supergirl could've saved, but that I didn't because I was too caught up in my own angst.

And then taking lunch break, and realizing that as always, I've forgotten to bring a lunch. And then picking up a little ham and mayo sandwich that I don't even like from the 7/11 across the street. And then eating it, and recycling the container. And then going in and greeting customers again. Giving them fake smiles. Taking their orders. Ignoring the ache under my skin. Pretending like everything is fine. Pretending like a part of me doesn't still crave for what I know I shouldn't. Trying to justify this, trying to justify the last two years, trying to argue countless points in my head to myself over and over and over again. More customers coming in, taking their orders, And then like that the work day is over.

And then walking home. Trudging along on cracked concrete. Climbing up the stairs to Lena's nondescript little spare apartment. Making dinner, or waiting for Lena to bring takeout by. Eating dinner with her, putting on a brave face, but then finally caving in and admitting my struggles. Listening to her talk, about her day, about everything. And then cleaning up. Bringing dishes to the sink, turning on the water, getting out the rag and soap, washing them down. Putting them on the drying rack. Drying them. Saying goodnight to Lena, giving her a little hug. Going back to my room, setting up a canvas, cracking out my paints, and then painting. Painting not because I have any inspiration but because I have to do it, I have to do something otherwise my time will be wasted and I'll get sucked into an endless cycles of bad thoughts and temptations. And then putting up the paints, tucking away the canvas, changing into pajamas, brushing my teeth, setting my alarm, restlessly avoiding sleep, finally drifting into sleep, and then waking up from nightmares.

That's how it starts.

But that's not the end. It's just the first day, and I have to do it again, and again.

All of it, it's hard. Harder than any of it has any fucking right to be. But I have to do it, I have to, because there's no alternative. It's either this, or give in entirely.

So I do all of it again.

Waking up.

Showering.

Eating breakfast.

Gathering my things.

Walking to work.

Doing my job.

Pretending like everything is fine, that I am fine.

Eating lunch.

Working more.

Walking home.

Eating dinner with Lena.

Cleaning up dinner.

Painting.

Going to bed.

And then again.

All of it, again.

One foot in front of the other, one day in front of the other.

And then a week has gone by.

Each day is hard. I want to quit, everyday. I want to give in, I want to go back to the shell I was before. But I have to be better for that.

During dinner one night I ask Lena why she's so sure that I'm worth all the effort.

"Because I have faith in you, not as Supergirl, or Kara, or even El, but as you," she tells me.

I know that her faith is misplaced. I know that her saying that doesn't mean anything, but it feels like it does. And maybe that's all that matters, because another week goes by and Lena is still by my side, believing in me all the way.

And that's when I decide I have to do it. If I'm really going to start over, there's something I still desperately need to do.

It's time to call Alex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter! More like an interlude than anything really. Last week for some reason my draft didn't save, so this is a bit shorter and different than what I had originally written. And it's late. But it's something at least lol. Next chapter will be longer and get back into the heart of the story :)


	10. Shaky Foundations

Alex doesn't pick up.

Because of course she doesn't. She doesn't know my new number, and no one picks up anymore for a number they don't know.

I call her again, and she still doesn't pick up.

I don't leave a voicemail though.

I don't call her again, after that.

Instead, I focus on settling into my life more. The coffee shop, the dinners with Lee, the occasional drink with Winn. I even start seeing a therapist, once a week. It takes me a few sessions to start opening up, and it's _hard_ , harder than I ever thought it would be. But it helps, slowly. And it's alright. It all feels like enough, even though I know it's not. Things change again though, a month and a half after I backed out of calling Alex.

I should've known that I wouldn't be able to stay away from her. I know I don't exactly have the greatest sense of when something was a great or terrible idea, but Lee has always seemed to. Which is why when it happens the first time, it takes me by surprise, because she doesn't put a stop to it at all.

I know that she's still hurting, from what I did to her. From the lies that made up the foundation of our relationship before. And I'm still hurting too, because she hadn't exactly trusted me either.

So I really, really don't expect any of it to happen.

But it's half past eleven, and between the two of us, we've finished up a bottle of wine over the last couple of hours. We're pleasantly tipsy, but only that. A movie is on, and we're cuddled up on the couch in my apartment (which is technically Lee's). It's all totally innocent and friendly.

But maybe it hasn't really been. Maybe, over the last two months I've been here, our cuddling has gotten just a little too intimate. Maybe we've started to let our eyes linger on each other a little bit too long. Maybe the flush on Lee's cheeks isn't entirely from the wine.

And I don't know why I do it. Maybe it's the wine, maybe it's the way she looks in the lamplight, soft and vulnerable. Maybe it's the way her shirt rides up just slightly, and the way her hip is pressed flush into mine. I know its a bad idea, but I do it anyways.

I lean in and kiss her.

She kisses me back, and it's not long before we find ourselves tangled in the sheets of my bed.

The next morning, she's not here. She's not in the kitchen, burning eggs into char on my (her) pan, or scraping at the bottom with a metal spatula, ruining the teflon because she doesn't know any better.

She's just not here at all.

She doesn't text, or call, and I don't see her until dinner. And when I ask her, tentative and nervous about what it means for us, she brushes it off. Says it was just a physical thing, that we both had had some wine, and that it doesn't mean anything.

And I'd believe her when she says that, except it happens again a week later. And then again. And it quickly becomes a regular thing.

I don't know what she really wants from me, but I know that I'm still not in a place where I can give her what I want to give her. Because, even if we just stay friends (with or without benefits), I want to be better for her. I want to be better for myself.

So, two months after that first slip up with each other, I decide to take the next step forward in my life to get things back on track. I dial a number into my phone that I have long had memorized, and pray to Rao that she picks up. And she does.

 _"Who is this?"_ the voice asks curtly on the other side.

"Kara."

The line is silent for a moment. _"Where have you been the last two years? I haven't heard a word from you since you left CatCo."_

"I'm sorry, Ms. Grant. Things were bad for a little while."

_"I thought you were dead."_

"I'm sorry."

_"Unless you want to tell me it was just a coincidence that you quit your job to never be seen again the same day as Supergirl was declared dead?"_

"I… yeah. It wasn't."

_"So you are Supergirl?"_

"…yeah."

 _"I knew it,"_ she chirps. _"So where on earth have you been the last two years? Or were you not on Earth? That would make sense too,"_ she muses.

I explain it all. The day Supergirl died, the blurred nightmare the last two years have been. The part about getting back on my feet again. She listens silently, not saying much at all until I finish.

_"Sounds like things have been tough."_

"They have been."

_"That's not an excuse to stay down though."_

"I know."

_"So is Supergirl coming back to National City? There are a lot of people who could use her help."_

"I know. I'm not sure yet, though," I say hesitantly. "Before Supergirl can come back, Kara has to."

_"I see."_

"So… could you maybe speak to Snapper for me, and see if I can get my old job at CatCo back?"

Ms. Grant is silent for a drawn out moment. _"I can't fight that battle for you, Kara."_

"Can you at least get me in the door with him? Maybe arrange a meeting?"

Another long pause. _"Alright. I'll see what I can do, but this is the last favor I do for you, you hear me?"_

"Loud and clear, Ms. Grant."

_"Alright. You take care of yourself now. I'll call you back next time I get a chance to speak with Snapper."_

"Thanks again, Ms. Grant."

_"And Kara?"_

"Yes?"

_"Don't let this happen again. You're better than this."_

And then the call is over, Ms. Grant having hung up before I could say anything back. A smile flickers to my lips, and I call Lee to tell her the good news.

//

It finally happens at the supermarket of all places, in the frozen food aisle.

The past few days have gone by in a blur, and I'm scheduled to meet with Snapper tomorrow, and I've thoroughly prepared my case of why I should be allowed back on the news staff.

But what I'm not prepared for is her.

She's bent over, looking at frozen pizzas. She's on the phone, her free hand holding it up to her ear, while her other opens the freezer door. She lets out a laugh.

I step closer to her, body trembling. This moment was inevitable. It was always going to happen, but that doesn't make it any easier. I take a few more steps, and I'm close enough to hear her voice on the phone now.

"Right?" she exclaims. "And I'm like, I just don't know what to tell him, Mags. What does he want, some sort of little consolation prize, like a--"

She turns her head and sees me.

"Mags? I'm gonna have to go now, okay?" She slips her phone back into her pocket and faces me fully, letting the freezer door thud close beside her. Her face is stone cold and composed, and if she's surprised, she doesn't show it. She doesn't show anything, and she doesn't say anything either.

After a long moment, I break the silence. "You don't look surprised to see me," I say softly. "Did Winn tell you?"

Alex stays quiet, and the moment stretches long into the next before she replies. "No, he didn't have to tell me. I already knew you were still alive."

"Who told you?"

"No one, Kara. No one had to tell me."

"You've known… this whole time?"

"Of course."

"How?"

Alex shrugs."You were my world, Kara. I had dedicated my life to protecting you. I wasn't going to rest until I knew the truth, no matter where it took me. At first, since there was no body, I figured you had been kidnapped. Those were a tough couple of weeks," she says with a rough little laugh. "But I managed to find a few loose ends, and I found you, after a bit over a month. And I when I caught on to what was going on with you, I figured you needed a bit of space, so I gave that to you. But I guess I was just wrong," she says with another shrug. "It's been two years, Kara. My heart got tired of waiting for you, and now it's hard to feel anything at all."

"Don't say that."

Alex chews at the corner of her lower lip. "I'm just being honest with you. And I think some honesty between us is long overdue."

"So, what?" I try to keep calm, to not let this swirl of anxiety and anger and guilt overwhelm me. "Now I just mean nothing to you?"

Alex's face softens. "Of course not. I am happy to see you. But I'm not as naive as I used to be, and I know you're not either. I know a little of what the last year has been like for you," she says softly.

My stomach clenches. "What of it?"

"Clark told me, when you OD'd a while back."

"Can't a girl get a bit of privacy in this town?" I mumble, knowing my attempt at humor was less an attempt at humor and more a way to air my pathetic grievance.

"You gave that all up the moment you became Supergirl."

"Which is part of the reason Supergirl had to die."

Alex sighs. "Supergirl could've faded away without Kara going away with her."

I don't know how to respond to that. "I don't know. But I'm trying to make things right, now. I started working at Noonan's again. I set up an interview with my old boss, Snapper. I want to find her again, Alex," I say, trying to offer her a small smile. "I want to find that Kara you lost, and I want to give her back to you."

Alex's mask breaks, and raw pain shows through the cracks. "Don't say that, unless you mean it."

"Of course I mean it. I've missed you, every day. I tried calling you before, but I-- I stopped trying," I say, my face flushing in shame. "I was so worried about what you would think of me, after all that's happened. And I don't think I'll ever be quite the same person again. But I'm still Kara, and you'll always be the most important person in my life to me."

Alex chokes back tears. "I've missed you so much."

"I know."

She starts crying, and I drop my basket to hug her. I encircle her in my arms, and after a long moment, I realize that I'm crying as well. She pulls me in tighter, her strong arms around me, and I'm not sure how long we stand there, sobbing and hugging in the frozen food aisle of the supermarket.

"Do you... wanna come have pizza at my place?" she asks. "We can talk, and figure everything out."

"Yeah," I say, dabbing at my eyes with my sweater sleeve, "I'd really like that."

And we do.

//

I'm pacing the apartment the next morning when Lee drops by to wish me luck at my interview.

"You'll be great, I know it," she says, wrapping me up in a hug.

I make a noncommittal noise.

"Oh shush, you're strong, you're intelligent, you're capable, and you look amazing," she says, eyeing my business attire.

"That's because you helped me pick it all out."

"And I'm glad I did, because you look like a badass reporter about to take down some massive crime organization."

I roll my eyes, and meet her grin. But mine quickly slips off my face. "What happens, Lee, if I slip up again?" I start softly. "I'm so close to rebuilding everything, but I-- I'm worried I'm gonna fuck it all up again. That I won't be able to do this."

"Well, if things go south," she says reassuringly, "you'll just have to get back up again. And I'll still be here to help you back up. And now you have Winn, and Alex, and even your old boss in your corner."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, now go get out there and kick some ass."

"Kiss for good luck?" I ask hopefully, expecting maybe a quick peck to my cheek.

"Kiss for good luck," she confirms. She hesitates for a moment, but then she's confident again and swooping down to give me a soft kiss on the lips that has me blushing.

We go our separate ways at the door, her to her car, me to the bus.

My stomach is a bundle of nerves, and during the bus ride I go over the notes I had prepared for the interview. My justifications for my departure from CatCo, the connections I had forged in Southside, my now intimate knowledge of the alien community, and my interest in doing profiles of local aliens as well as pieces on poverty in National City. 

An hour later, the bus screeches to a stop across the street from CatCo and I step off. The building is bigger than I remember it being, and it's intimidating to be back here.

I proceed inside, flashing a shy smile to Lisa, who is still working the security desk.

"Kara! It's been so long," she call out. "What brings you back?"

"I have an interview with Snapper, to get hired back on as a reporter."

"Exciting! Good luck!"

"Thanks!"

I go up the elevator, comforted by the familiar environment. It dings, and I step out into the HR office. The man behind the desk (a new hire that I don't know) checks me in and asks me to sit, which I do.

I go over my preparations one last time, and just as I'm about to silence my phone, it starts vibrating with a call from Alex.

 _"Kara,"_ she says curtly, _"we need your help."_

"Alex," I hiss into the phone. "You know that I have my interview in a few minutes. And you know I can't use my powers anymore, so why are you calling?"

_"Lena Luthor is being held hostage, and we only have three hours before her kidnapper kills her."_

"What," I breathe. "What do you mean?"

_"One of Lex's followers. He's calling it payback for her betrayal of him. He's already set up a livestream of her, and if we don't give in to his demands, he's going to kill her for the world to see."_

"What are his demands?"

_"That Lex be released from prison."_

"That's not going to happen," I whisper.

_"I know."_

"So how can I help?"

_"You know Lena better than anyone. And if your powers just need a jolt to come back, then maybe this is the perfect time for it."_

"Alright," I swallow. "Alright. I'll come meet you at the DEO."

_"I've got a car on its way to you now."_

"Okay," I say, voice shaky.

_"And Kara? It's going to be alright, we're going to catch this guy and save her. Stay strong."_

"Right," I choke out. "Thanks Alex."

The call disconnects, and I wipe my palms on my slacks. I stand up, and the man behind the desk gives me a confused look as I turn around and walk out the office.

Lee is in trouble. And I am going to save her, no matter what it takes.


	11. Flash Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Sooooo.... it's been a long time y'all. Good news is that I wrote the first draft to a novel during my fanfic hiatus! Bad news is that it's taken me forever to get this out. It's not amazing or anything, but it should bring us right up to wrapping things up. Enjoy :)

Alex is there at the door to escort me into the DEO, and after a quick hug and reassuring look, she starts debriefing me.

"Right now we don't know much, and we have around--" Alex pauses and checks her watch "52 minutes left until the kidnapper claims he will kill Lena Luthor. We've got the military, Feds, and local police working with us. So far, we don't have any specific intelligence on her whereabouts, though we do have traffic camera surveillance that shows Lena driving to L-Corp."

"Did she ever enter the building?"

"We don't know. All the security footage connected to L-Corp suddenly stopped working this morning, around an hour before Lena arrived," Alex says grimly. "Which means that it could've been an inside job. But, Lena's keycard was never activated to enter the building, so we don't think she even made it inside."

"Have we searched the building?"

"Thoroughly."

"Shit. Do we know anything else?"

"That's all we know for sure," Alex says, her mouth a grim line. "There are some things that we've been able to deduce though. We know that the kidnapper hasn't gone too far, wherever he is, just because of the lack of time between Lena was last seen and her earliest confirmed time of abduction. We also suspect that he believes his position is untenable, and that he is likely to be discovered, considering that he's only given us an hour to meet his demands."

"So what do we do now?"

"We continue to analyze the evidence, and be ready to respond in a minute's notice."

We turn the corner into the situation room, and a small scatter of applause breaks out at my appearance. Winn, Vasquez, and a half-dozen agents I recognize are all looking at me, smiling. I blush and look down, not wanting to meet their eyes.

"Supergirl, it's good to have you back," J'onn calls out warmly. "Has Alex debriefed you?"

"She's all up to speed, sir," Alex answers for me.

"Good. Keep working at this," he says, to everyone else in the room. "I'm going to conference with Supergirl privately."

J'onn motions for me to follow, and we climb up the stairs to the roof. We step outside, and the hazy National City skyline greets us.

"It's good to see you again," J'onn says softly. "I was worried that this day would never come. I just wish it could be under better circumstances."

"It's good to see you too." I step forward, tentative, before working up the courage to slip my arms around him. He returns the embrace firmly.

"As nice as it is to see you again though," he says, walking over to the edge of the roof, "I had an ulterior motive for bringing you up here. I was hoping maybe you'd be able to access your super hearing, and detect Lena Luthor."

"I'm afraid I can't," I say, stepping up to the roofline with him.

"So you can't hear anything beyond what a human can?"

"Nope."

"Time to restart your powers then," he says gruffly.

And then with a push, the concrete skids out from under my feet and I am falling off the side of the building. The air is alive with fire and is stinging my face and I can't breathe and I'm falling faster and faster and the concrete is growing closer and closer and I want to move but I can't and I'm trying but I can't and just can't and I can't breathe and I'm panicking and I'm panicking and I'm close enough to see the cracks in the concrete and the texture and--

Strong arms grab me by my sides and pull me back up into the sky to the roof above.

"What the fuck was that J'onn! You nearly killed me!" I shout as the Martian lowers me back down to steady ground.

"I thought it would jump-start your powers again, like how it did before."

"Yeah, well, it didn't." I wrap my arms around myself and try to suppress the trembling of my body.

"I'm sorry," he says, more sheepishly than I think I've ever heard him.

"At least you tried," I admit, somewhat sullenly. "It's been two years and I haven't done anything to even try to get them back."

He's silent in thought for a moment. "Are your senses still enhanced at all?"

"Just barely."

"And your body's defenses?"

"I can take more than any human, but not like before. A gunshot won't kill me, but it'll put me down for a good bit."

His eyebrows shoot up. "Have you been shot recently?"

"No, but I was the day that I lost my powers. Remember the photo?"

"Oh. So you're in about the same state as then?"

"I think so."

"This is going to be a challenge," he grumbles. "Let's go back down to the situation room then."

We head back down. The situation room is still abuzz with conversation, but none of it is productive. It's all speculative, and there are still no firm leads.

And then it hits me fully. Lena is in the hands of a crazed kidnapper, and we didn't have much time left, and we didn't have any leads. I duck out of the room, tears stinging my eyes. I press my back flat against the wall and try not to sob.

Alex pops out of the room, and her face drops when she sees me crying despite my best efforts not to.

"Come here," she says softly, holding her arms out.

I step into the embrace and rest my face on her shoulder.

"You really love her, don't you."

"I do," I choke out. "I don't think I've ever felt anything like what I feel for her before."

"I'm glad. Because we're going to get her back, and you're going to have all the time in the world with her."

"This city needs her," I whisper. I need her.

Alex nods silently, and she gently rocks me back and forth.

After a long moment, a soft voice breaks the silence.

"Sorry to ruin the moment," the voice says, "but this is where I need to be, right?"

"Maggie!" Alex says with a grin. "This is my little sister, Kara," she says, showing me off in all my tear-streaked glory.

"Hey," I say weakly.

"Nice to meet you, I just wish it was under better circumstances," she says offering me a small smile.

"Same."

"So," she says, turning her attention back to Alex. "Any new leads since the teleconference earlier?"

"No, not really."

"Great."

"Actually," Winn says, popping out from the door way. "Hope I'm not intruding here, but we do have news."

Alex nods, and we bundle into the situation room, huddling around J'onn. The Martian clears his throat and solemnly address the room.

"We've received intel from the Feds showing that Ms. Luthor was developing an array of alien detection devices," J'onn says flatly. "Additionally, the military has received an anonymous tip that it was some sort of alien that abducted Ms. Luthor, and not a Lex supporter, and local police have just informed us of a call they received about a suspicious alien driving without plates down the freeway between the time Lena was last seen and the time the kidnapper confirmed that he had Lena."

"And why on earth would an alien want Lex Luthor free?" I ask, dumbfounded.

"A false flag operation," Winn suggests. "He doesn't actually want Lex Luthor free, and he knows that it's impossible for him to be freed within an hour."

"Correct," J'onn says with a nod. "That's what the Feds believe. They think that it's someone who wants Ms. Luthor dead, but wants to pin it on a deranged Lex supporter."

"But if they're claiming that Lena Luthor is perverting Lex's legacy by not being anti-alien enough," Maggie pipes up, "why would they want to kill her? It doesn't line up to me."

Lieutenant Marshall answers her. "Because he's an alien trying to make people who support reasonable legislation like the alien registry seem crazy and deranged. He has something to gain from killing someone who makes tech that could be dangerous to him, and he has something to gain from making it seem like it was some 'crazy' person who supports sensible alien legislation who did it. Pretty cut and clear if you ask me," he says with a snide smirk.

"As much as I'd like to dismiss it," J'onn says, "it is a valid theory, and beyond that, an alien suspect is worth looking into." He turns to Maggie. "Can you put any feelers out in the alien community?"

"I can, but I can already tell you that it's not going to bring up anything," Maggie says, arms crossed. "And besides, if you want to explore the 'dangerous' alien tip you received earlier, I'm not your girl for that. Supergirl is," she says, tipping her head towards me.

"Sorry?" I ask.

"I know the aliens who are more settled into National City. I don't have many connections to the Space Way area. And from what we were debriefed on about her last two years before she got here, she does."

"You _debriefed_ them on me?" I ask incredulously, turning to Alex.

"Sorry," she says, at least looking a little chagrined. "They needed to know what you could and couldn't do, and a few small details about where you had been the last few years. But we can't focus on that now," she says, turning her attention back to J'onn. "Do you think this lead is worth following up on?"

"We don't have anything else to go on at the moment, so yes, I do. Supergirl, if we give you a description of the car and the alien inside, do you think you can reach out and try to get an ID?"

My stomach churns slightly with unease. Something doesn't feel right about this. But Lee needs help, desperately, so I couldn't turn down any lead, no matter how much it unsettles me.

"Yes. I'll need a few minutes though," I say, digging into my purse for my phone.

"If we had an alien registry," the lieutenant grumbles, "we wouldn't need to _try_ to ID them. We could just ID them on the spot" Everyone in the room ignores him.

I step out into the hallway, phone already dialing up an old number I hadn't used in months.

I would get an ID. And we would find the bastard.

//

"You used to live out here? Alex asks softly, as our armored van pulls into Space Way.

I turn away silently and keep my eyes focused out the window.

A few minutes later, we stop out in front of a boarded-up red brick apartment, where the unlicensed Camry with flaking black paint is sagging on patchy brown grass.

"Remember," J'onn calls out, "We have 25 minutes left. Be ready for a fight, but also be ready to get the hell out of here and back to the DEO if this is a dead end. Tactical team, are we ready to go?"

"Yes, sir!" they echo back to him.

"Wait," I call out, an uneasy feeling sinking into my stomach. "Maybe I should just knock and see if they answer?" I offer.

"With a tactical armored van outside? No way they answer," Alex says back. "We'll storm it, apprehend them, and then sort things out."

J'onn nods in agreement. "Agents, fan out and surround the building. Supergirl, stay back behind me."

We climb out of the car, and I watch with dread as the agents surround the house. This doesn't look right, it doesn't feel right.

Alex bangs on the door. "FBI, open up!"

A moment later, miraculously, the door opens and a trembling alien with scaly tentacles steps out into the doorframe

"Hands up hands up!" Alex shouts, brandishing her gun at him. The alien, not having hands, looks confused. "I said hands _up!_ " she shouts, and he hurriedly thrusts his limbs into the air, losing his balance in the process. He falls to the ground, and Alex jumps back and fires a warning shot. "Do as I say! Stay down, and don't try anything else!"

Agents swarm the house, stepping around the alien hunkered down on the ground.

"J'onn," I whisper, "this isn't right."

"Supergirl, you have many abilities, but precognition isn't one of them."

"No, I mean _this_. What we're doing. How we're doing it. Look at him, he's terrified to death."

J'onn hesitates. "We're operating on a very strict timeline. We don't have time to be as courteous as we may wish to be."

"That doesn't make the way you're treating him okay."

J'onn shrugs. "It's just the way it has to be."

I shudder, holding my tongue. Is this really how it has to be? This level of brutality? It's no surprise these aliens shelter themselves away, when this is the kind of interaction they have with humans. When the people meant to protect them are openly hostile towards them. The DEO's mission is first and foremost to apprehend aliens who are a threat to humans, with minimal concern for alien refugees who pose no risk at all. Maybe that should change.

Agents storm out of the house. "All clear sir" one of them calls out. "Only two hostiles inside, and they pose no threat. Luthor isn't here."

We climb back into the van, leaving the alien alone, still trembling on the ground outside his home.

An agent starts the engine and pulls out, leaving us in dead silence as we consider the situation now. We're almost out of time, and there are no more leads for us.

Alex puts an arm around me, but I can't find the comfort in it that I normally do. If I hadn't been adopted by her family, is that the way she would've treated me? Like an even more belligerent Cat Grant?

I shrug her arm off, an unrelated idea coming to me.

"What if she didn't use her access card? What if she did enter the building, but someone else let her in?"

The van is silent for a moment, before Alex speaks up. "It's possible, but Lena used a separate entrance from most employees, one used only by board members. So who would have let her in? The CFO?"

"Back when I was at CatCo," I start, drawing my words out, "Ms. Grant had her own separate entrance and elevator. Sometimes, she would have me meet her down at that entrance."

Alex is silent for a moment. "So you think the assistant might have let her in?"

"I think so."

"Interesting theory," J'onn offers, "but how do we test it?"

"I'll run a check on the assistant," Winn offers. "See if any red flags pop up."

"Have you met her?" J'onn asks me.

"No. But Lena seems to trust her."

"Alright," Winn says, speaking up. "So the assistant? She was involved with L-Corp before Lena took over. It seems that Lena hired from within, and that Jess had worked personally under both Lillian and Lex before Lena took over."

"So her allegiance could align with them over Lena."

"It also looks like she's also posted some anti-alien things online."

"Call her," J'onn barks. "See if she answers."

"Who, me?" Winn asks.

"No, Vasquez," he says, slightly annoyed. "We'll call her in an official capacity as part of the investigation and see if she responds, and trace her call while we're at it."

Vasquez dials in the number, and the van is silent as the phone rings. On the fifth ring, Jess picks up, and Vasquez puts the phone on speaker.

 _"Hello?"_ a clear voice chimes in.

"This is the FBI calling about the disappearance of Lena Luthor. Do you have a moment to speak with us?"

 _"Oh, um, I can, but only a really short one. Things are crazy here with out her,"_ she says with a little laugh.

"Did you see Lena Luthor this morning?"

_"Like I said before, no. I didn't."_

"What time does Lena usually come in to work?"

_"Eight."_

"And she usually comes straight up?"

_"Yes."_

"Do you ever meet her at the entrance?"

_"Sometimes."_

"Did you meet her at the entrance today?"

 _"No,"_ Jess scoffs. _"I didn't, and I didn't see anything, like I've already said. Is this over?"_

"We do have a few more--"

_"Sorry, the CFO's here, I need to go."_

And before Vasquez can get another word in, the call is dropped.

J'onn looks to Winn. "Did you get a trace on that call?"

"It came from L-Corp."

J'onn nods and looks to Vasquez. Vasquez plugs in another number, and on the second ring, it picks up.

_"This is the office of Mr. Luiz, CFO of L-Corp. How may I help you?"_

"This is the FBI, looking into the kidnapping of Lena Luthor. Can we speak to Mr. Luiz?"

_"Of course, I'll patch him through."_

A moment later, a man's voice comes through the phone. _"How can I help, officers?"_ Vasquez's nose wrinkles slightly at "officers."

"This is the FBI, and we just have a quick question for you. Have you spoken with Jess, Ms. Luthor's assistant, recently?"

_"I don't think so, why?"_

"So in the last few minutes, you haven't had any interaction with her?"

_"No."_

"But you have seen her in the building today?"

" _Yes, I saw her with the police when they came and spoke with us. Why? Has something happened to her?"_

"No, everything is fine. Thank you, Mr. Luiz."

_"Of course."_

Vasquez hangs up the phone, and the van bursts into loud conversation as agents start speculating with each other.

J'onn speaks up sternly after a moment, silencing the van. "The assistant is hiding something, and is potentially now our top suspect to be the kidnapper. We have no other leads. If she's holding Lena in some sort of classified lab in L-Corp, she knows that her position is vulnerable, hence the short time frame. We may not have a firm motive for her, but it's not beyond the realm of possibility that she'd have one, or that she'd be willing to work with a kidnapper. So, let's go to her in person and see what she has to say for herself."

Alex gives him a grim nod. I try not to squirm too much in my seat.

We're running out of time. And we had already made one major mistake, who's to say we won't make another?

//

We pull into L-Corp with four minutes to spare. It's either this or we fail, and everyone knows it. There's no subtlety as we pile out of the van and burst through the doors. Security looks shocked, but they don't even think to object to it. Funny how people in all black with guns and a three-letter acronym are able to do things like that.

During the drive, Winn had found the blueprints to L-Corp. Through omission, it showed us where Lee might have a secret lab, if one did exist at all. That's what we are staking her life on now. That her assistant is holding her captive in a secret lab. It feels like something out of a shitty paperback sci-fi novel, the kind that pack thrift store walls and are priced so low that it seems like the store is practically begging you to take them. But to be fair, that's how my life usually feels.

We're going up the elevators. It's against tactical code, but we don't have the luxury of using stairs. It's a risk we have to take, because otherwise, there's no way we're getting up there in time.

The elevator is fast, the kind of fast that makes your stomach drop as you climb up. I try to keep my breath steady as it nears the top floor.

And it does. And we step out. And my heart is racing in my chest and I want to cry, because this is it. There's no room for error.

The agents go ahead but I have to linger back, being of little help as an unpowered civilian.

A few moments later, one of them reports back. "We've found the secret lab. Should we proceed in?"

J'onn nods. "Let's end this."

We march down a corridor and through open the door and agents burst into the lab, which looks like a sort of high-tech warehouse. Lena is tied to a chair and Jess, visibly startled, has some sort of high-tech gun leveled at her.

"Put the gun down, put the gun down!" Alex shouts.

Jess doesn't comply. "You shoot and she dies!" she calls back.

The agents halt and the room comes to a standstill.

Lee's eyes widen when she sees me and I know she's proud that I'm here, helping to save her.

"Put the gun down," Alex repeats stepping a little closer. J'onn joins her at the front of the assault team.

"No. Release Lex Luthor or she dies."

"Look," J'onn says, "that's not going to happen, but maybe--"

"It has to happen!" Jess cuts in. "And I'll tell you why. Lex Luthor, he needs to be free, because this little runt," Jess says, tugging at Lee's hair, "isn't worthy of her name. The aliens are here, and they're not sending their best people. They're murders, drug dealers, rapists. My mother was killed by an alien," she hisses.

"Killing Lena won't achieve what you want," J'onn calls out. "This isn't going to work, but if you put the weapon down, we can work out a plea deal for you."

"Shut up, alien," Jess spits. "Little Luthor here, the spineless bitch, is a fucking alien apologist. She even backed out of her alien detection device. And she kept spouting all this pro-alien bullshit, and I just couldn't stand it anymore to see her desecrating her brother's memory like that. So I'm going to clean up after her mistakes, like I always have to." She tugs Lee's hair a little harder. "Release Lex Luthor, or she dies."

J'onn surges forward. Jess shoots from her sleek silver gun and a pulse of energy erupts from from it. J'onn collapses on the ground, writhing in pain.

"An example of the tech Luthor Corp should go back to testing! An anti-alien gun to get rid of alien scum," she hisses. "Now release Lex, or she dies."

The agents fire back but their bullets are stopped by some sort of force field. Jess drags Lee to a corridor in the back of the lab.

Winn points at some sort of metal box. "Shoot at that!"

The agents turn their fire to it and bullets thud and ricochet against it.

A sharp pain scrapes against my shoulder. A stray bullet had ricochet and grazed me. It's not a serious injury, but it's an unwelcome reminder of how powerless I am.

"Careful!" Alex shouts when she sees what happened to me. "Are you alright, Kara?"

"I'll be fine," I bite back.

The force field dissipates, and the agents look to J'onn for further commands.

"I don't know what the hell kind of gun she has," J'onn growls, beads of sweat streaming down his face. "But whatever it is, I can't continue on. Alex," he says, eyes flicking to her, "finish the mission. I know you can do it."

Alex nods solemnly. "Agent Carter, take get him to a medic. The rest of the team, follow me," she says, signaling with her arm. They march through the corridor and up the steps, with me following behind in the rear.

We burst out onto a small rooftop patio area, which is totally bare except for Jess and Lee, who are waiting for us all the way by the edge of the roof.

"Nobody move, or I shoot her," Jess commands, gun held against Lee's head.

The DEO agents stand still, but hold their ground.

Alex makes a subtle motion to Vasquez, and Vasquez gives a slight nod. They set down their weapons, as do the rest of the DEO agents. Alex makes another small gesture to Vasquez, and they return with another slight nod. Alex steps forward, hands raised. "Jess, we're not going to hurt you. We don't want anyone to get hurt here."

"Well this bitch," she says, yanking at Lee's hair, pulling her head sharply up, "is going to die, unless you release Lex Luthor from prison, right now."

Alex takes another step forward, and Vasquez does as well, though Jess seems too fixated on Alex to notice.

In a flash Alex has another gun in her hands and points it directly at Jess. "Drop the gun or I shoot!"

"Shoot and she dies," Jess counters back.

Alex takes another step forward, now only a few yards away. "Lower your weapon, or I shoot."

"No."

And then Alex's gun bucks and a shot rings out, and Jess releases Lena, her arm bleeding and swinging now useless by her side. She shoots at Alex, but the shot narrowly misses. Vasquez lunges forward to grab Lee and move her to safety. Alex darts forward and knocks the gun out of Jess's hand and moves to detain her. Jess doesn't resist.

I take in a deep, uneven breath, the horror finally over. Vasquez undoes Lee's bonds, and she's finally free, and staggering to her feet. I rush over to her, ready to embrace her. But before I can, a cry splits the air.

Jess, no longer playing the role of defeated captive, pitches her shoulder backwards and rams into Alex.

Alex stumbles and takes a step back to regather her footing. But there's no roof left, and she falls backward off the building, Jess following her down.

It only takes half a moment for her body to slip away out of sight. A heart beat, really. And then she's gone.

"Kara," Lee shouts, her voice catching. She doesn't need to say anything else though, because I see the look in her eyes. I can see the hope, the desperation, and most importantly the faith she has in me. I give her one last smile as I gather my resolve.

And then I sprint to the edge and dive down after Alex.

My shoulder is still bleeding. I know that nothing has changed. I'm not Supergirl anymore, I'm not the Girl of Steel, I'm not invincible.

It's not self-sacrificial though. I don't want to die, not anymore. But I can't let this happen. If there's a chance at all to save her, I have to take it. I have to.

And maybe I do still have a bit of Supergirl in me, because I catch up to her in the air. I wrap my arms around her and flip her around, so that I am the one facing the ground.

"I'm here for you," I tell her. I'm finally there for her like I should've been all along, like she's been there for me since we were little.

"Kara! Let go! You'll get both of us killed!"

"No. I won't."

"Kara, I'm begging you."

"I have faith in me," I whisper, the wind stealing the words from my lips.

"What?"

"No, I won't let go. I can do this," I say louder, determined.

"Kara we're almost at the ground, let go!"

"No, I _can_ do this. I _will_ do this." I grit my teeth and will myself to fly, but nothing happens.

And then there are only seconds left before we hit the ground.

And I want to panic, but I can't let myself cave into my fear like I've been doing for the last two years. I need to be strong, I need to do this. So if I can't fly, then I'll just have to stand strong instead.

I angle myself down and and set my legs out wide, bracing for impact.

And then we hit.

Pain spikes through the soles of my feet to the top of my skull and I feel the concrete buckle under me but I don't let go, I don't let my knees bend, I don't let myself break, I don't let her break, I don't let go of her, I don't let go of myself. The moment stretches into eternity as my body wants to bend and break and collapse but _I do not let it_.

And then the ground is calm underneath us and she's still in my arms and I'm still standing. My knees give out a moment later, but it doesn't matter, because we're safe.

Jess doesn't share our fate. Her crumpled, broken body is strewn out on the ground beside us, in a macabre reminder of what we almost were.

Alex is crying, and I think I am too. And I feel relief and calm but my vision starts to get patchy and black and my mind fogs up and--

//

I wake up in another hospital bed.

There are solar lamps here this time and I recognize the DEO logo stamped on them. It's dark outside though, I can tell. Hopefully I've only been out a few hours and not a few days.

"Hey," Alex calls out, immediately at my side. "Thank God you're okay."

"When am I not," I say, flashing her a cheeky grin.

She enfolds me in an embrace and I sink into it.

"I'm just glad you're alright," I whisper.

She leans back a little. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," I wince. "Sore, but I feel..." I take a deep breath in. "Normal." A grin slides onto my face as I realize I can hear her heartbeat again. "And my powers are back."

Alex hugs me again. "I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks."

"And as much as I want to monopolize your time, there's someone else here to see you." She steps back and walks out of the room. A moment later, Lee's figure fills the doorway.

"You look good in the tactical gear," Lee says coolly.

"You look good, not trussed up like a pig."

She snorts. "Thanks for coming to save me. And thanks for being brave."

I blush a little. "It was nothing."

She steps over to me, heels clacking on the tile floor. "It was heroic." She reaches down and tucks a strand of stray hair behind my ear. "And I happen to know of just the right reward for my hero." She hesitates, looking at me softly for a long moment, before she leans down and her lips slide gently over mine. I kiss her back sand she takes her time, kissing me long and lovingly.

"You're my hero too, you know," I tell her, once we finally break away.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. So I should kiss you too now. If that's what you want."

She blushes a little, her lips quirking up into a smile. "There's nothing I would like more."

And our lips sing together again and long through the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't say I've ever written out an action scene before, so hopefully it turned out alright. Not my proudest work but at least it's out there :)
> 
> Any last threads you want to see resolved or mentioned in the final chapter? I've already got a plan to wrap everything up I think, but I might be missing something, so please let me know if there's anything you want resolved that hasn't been yet!
> 
> Also, I'm thinking about updating the title/tags/summary for this work, now that it's just about finished. What, if anything, should be added/changed?
> 
> Thanks for sticking with it, even with the huge delay!


	12. New Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one last chapter for y'all, short and sweet :)

The rain taps a gentle rhythm on the window beside me, running down in rainbow rivulets refracted from the neon lights outside.

Marco slides a mocha down in front of me. "For my favorite ex-employee."

"Thanks."

"'Course." He pops back to the counter and I go back to revising the draft of my next news article.

The door jingles open and she appears from behind it, a vision of sleek dark hair and red lips. Most days I still think she looks like she just walked off the set of some Hollywood blockbuster. I give her a little wave and close my laptop as she settles down across from me.

"Hey," she says, lips quirked up in a smile. "So, I just checked the news, and guess whose news article I saw?"

"Who?"

"Yours, silly. Why didn't you tell me you got your first byline?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise." I'm suddenly sheepish under her intense gaze. "I figured that I would tell you tonight, over a glass of wine maybe."

Lee reaches out to take my hands. "Well, we can still have that glass of wine. I'm just so proud of you!"

"Yeah, it's kind of crazy how far I've come, hasn't it?"

"You're quite different from that wild, lonely girl I first met. Still the same person at your core though."

"I don't know about that."

"I know it." Lee lifts my hand and presses a soft kiss on my knuckles. "You still had the heart of Supergirl, even at your lowest. You're the bravest person I know. It's one of the reasons I love you so much."

She has me flushing to my roots with her words. It's still crazy to hear that someone as beautiful and smart as _her_ loves _me_. "I love you too. And I'm going to keep being brave and do things differently this time. I'm not just gonna catch petty criminals. I'm going to go after the people on top too who are abusing those under them. As a journalist and as a hero."

"This country does need some corporate accountability, though I'm fairly certain that as a CEO I'm supposed to be against this sort of thing," she says with a smirk.

"We make an odd match, don't we," I tease.

"A Super and a Luthor. The trustfund billionaire and the refugee fighting for those without the capital to fight for themselves."

"Match made in heaven."

"I was wrong, you know. What I told you when you were recovering after your relapse. I don't think we're doomed in any way at all," Lee says with a gentle shake of her head. "I think we make each other better. Stronger."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"When did you get so poetic," I tease, rolling my eyes at her.

"Oh shut up, I know you love it."

"I do, I'll admit. But if you want me to shut up, there's only one way to do that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

And then she's lunging across the table and her lips are on the smile of mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR STAYING ALONG FOR THE JOURNEY!!! I know I'm not the best at responding to comments, but I just want to give a huge thank you to everyone who has left comments and feedback! It's really meant a lot to know that people are reading and enjoying the work, and I probably wouldn't have worked up the motivation to finish at all if it wasn't for y'all. Also, special thank you to all y'all who called me out for accidentally using Lena instead of Lee in the prose of the early chapters :P
> 
> Since there's already so much wonderful Supercorp stuff out there, I wanted to try to take a different approach to what I had seen done before and really explore the superhero archetype, especially within the context of struggling with depression and depression-like symptoms and looking at what a superhero is within the context of inequality and social justice. Hopefully it worked somewhat and was at least a little thought-provoking in addition to being the junky gay fanfic we all know and love :)
> 
> Outside of this, as far as Supergirl fanfics go, I'm considering writing a no-powers AU fic of Kara as a nearly-infamous art forger and Lena as a small-time art collector, but I haven't started writing on it yet. I might bump it up on my writing priority list if there's interest though!
> 
> Anyways, thank y'all all again, and I hope you've enjoyed it!!! I promise I'll respond to every comment on this chapter, at least for the first few days it's up :D


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